The Warners' Super Special Comeback Musical
by Pleading Eyes
Summary: Actual story title inside. After the cancellation of Animaniacs, the Warners sat in their tower, watching... waiting... thinking up song parodies... Now they've escaped and they're not going down without a fight. Or at least a few musical numbers.
1. Prologue aka No Singing Yet

**Inspiration:** They're the Warner Brothers and the Warner Sister Dot! Which 90s kid didn't grow up on this cartoon? And recently I happened to catch a few clips of the cartoon and fell in love with it all over again.

I also happened to read The Middle Warner Sibling's fanfic "Family." A brilliant piece of work, by the way. If you haven't read it then go. NOW!

Anyway, the Warners were always parodying current movies. It's too bad they didn't stick around to parody the sudden surge of musicals we've been getting. I love musicals, I love the Warners. A combination would've been pure awesomeness. So this fic will mostly involve the Warner siblings parodying musicals. Easy enough concept to grasp, wouldn't you say?

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill! All the characters you know are from Animanics are obviously not mine and I have no claims on them. But any you don't know probably are mine, as are the fantastical situations the characters are placed in; which spring from the dangerous combination of creativity and boredom.

**C****larification:** Ehhhhhh... chicken chow-meiny. Here's the fic's namey!

* * *

** The Warners'  
Super Special Faboo United States Canada Mexico Panama Comeback Musical,  
Now With Extra Cuteness**

It was a lovely and peaceful day on the Warner Brother's movie lot, as it had been for as long as anyone could remember. Of course, said loveliness and peacefulness had only come about in the late 90s, but Hollywood executives were not known for their healthy memory.

But back to the point, the Warner movie lot was a place of tranquility, a place for nice and quiet entertainment officials to make nice and quiet shady business deals. Yes, all was wrong with the world. But no one minded, so long as everything was quiet and under control. Black butterflies fluttered in their air, wielding mace in their little butterfly purses. The air was sweet and thick with smog. Burbank was the epitome of the entertainment industry.

But in the center in the lot, stretching up high, shining like a beacon of hope, a testament to days passed, stood the Warner Brothers' water tower. In shone beautifully and faithfully, watching over the peaceful and corrupt lot with its trusty WB logo and its glistening chains. Chains as thick as the smog in the air, for the still, quiet tower held a terrible secret; a secret the studio had tried for years to keep contained, the only threat to their tight network of tranquility and evil.

Inside the water tower rested three siblings of questionable species and sanity. Within the silent metallic recesses of the Warner Brothers water tower, behind the engraved WB door, slumbered the Warner Brothers themselves and their sister Dot.

For you see, unbeknownst to the world, these simple cartoons were more than just figments of a writer's imagination. They had begun as doodles on a pad of paper, as all cartoons do. But the genius animator responsible for the creation of these strange children had manages something amazing. He had brought the Warners to life.

No one knew how he'd done it, and the man had gone completely insane right after, but the studio welcomed the Warner children with greedy eyes.

Throughout the 90s, the studio executives had kept the Warners secret from the world, choosing to film them rather than animate to save money. They told no one of the Warner's true existence, fearing that a competing studio would attempt to hire the Warners, or study them and discover how to breathe life into animations of their own.

And so the Animaniacs cartoon series was born. A quick storyline was invented; a supporting cast was animated to star alongside the living, breathing Warners. The Warners were digitally placed into cartoon scenes after being filmed on a green screen. It was that easy.

True, dealing with the Warner children was not a simple task. So a psychiatrist was hired—and a cartoon caricature of him was animated to star in the show—to deal with the Warners. But despite his best efforts, Dr. Otto Scrachinsniff could not control the zany cartoon siblings. Still, the studio endured the Warners. After all, the Warners were making them rich.

But then something happened that no one had expected. The studio's funding was cut. Soon, the money being generated by Animaniacs cartoons could not compensate for the damage being caused by the Warner siblings. Panic set in, and the CEO at the time, Thaddeus Plotz, decided to take drastic action.

Ironically, the Warners were sealed away in the water tower, just like the premise of the very show they had starred in.

And there they slept, awaiting the day their show would revive and the studio would welcome them once more.

But as the saying goes; good things may come to those who wait, but great things come to those who go out and get 'em!

Of course, this was not Yakko Warner's original intention when he sat up in bed, woken by a thud coming from the kitchen. A brief investigation revealed the source of the sound; Wakko Warner had woken and sat curled up under their sink.

"Wakko…" Yakko sighed, passing a tired hand over his head. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"I'm tired of sleeping!" Wakko protested, his lips in a pout, tongue lolling out of his mouth. "I want to _do_ something."

"And we will, my bottomless sib." Yakko assured his brother, yanking him out of the cabinet with some effort. "We just have to wait until the studio picks our show back up."

"But they're not going to bring back our show! They hate us!" Cried Wakko, stamping his foot stubbornly as he brandished a sheet of paper from his grab-bag.

"What the—?" Yakko read the paper in his brother's hand, no thought to where exactly Wakko had gotten it.

_Animaniacs Cancelled! Power Rangers keep #1 spot in children's entertainment!_

Yakko chuckled nervously. A part of him knew the truth behind those printed words, but for the sake of his siblings he refused to indulge his doubts. "Oh come on, Wakko! You know how Plotzy is! He's just kidding around."

Wakko raised an eyebrow skeptically and tore off the paper, revealing another page underneath.

_Not kidding. Animaniacs never to return._

Yakko's eyes shifted from side to side as he forced out a laugh and a dismissive wave of the hand. "Ha-ha, Wakko! You know as well as I that jokes are always funnier the second time!"

Without batting an eyelash, Wakko tore the page, revealing yet another, reading;

_Seriously, the studio hates the Warners and is hereby locking them away forever._

"Ehhhhh, third time's the charm?" Said Yakko, tearing away the page himself to reveal the next one.

_The Warners are a menace, and the studio would sooner force its employees to star in a major musical fanfiction before renewing their contracts._

"One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and four to go?" Yakko said in response.

Wakko poised himself to remove the next page, but Yakko grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

"That's enough of that. Seriously, I'm running out of cliché sayings." Yakko yanked the stack of papers out of his brother's grasp and stuffed them all into his slacks for safe-keeping. He'd look through them later, and burn them afterwards.

Wakko gave Yakko a desperate look. He had wanted to believe his older brother, he really had. But with the years passing them by and sign of daylight, it was becoming increasingly harder. Despite being verbally inferior to his quick witted sibling, Wakko was not stupid. He knew when they weren't wanted.

"Wakko…" Yakko's face fell. There was no point in the façade of strength and hope if his siblings didn't believe him. But still, he had to try. "Things'll get better soon. I promise."

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep." came a sweetly sarcastic voice from the hall.

"Dot." Yakko turned to face the youngest Warner, his adorable little sister. "Shouldn't you be getting your beauty sleep?"

"I think I've had enough beauty sleep for me, AND both of you!" said Dot with a harrumph, adjusting her flower scrunchie which was beginning to droop. "And besides, what's the point of being so painfully cute if there's no one around the appreciate it?!"

"I'm hungry!" cried Wakko.

"I'm bored!" whined Dot.

"C'mon, don't be like this." Said Yakko, trying so very hard to smile as he strained to talk over his siblings' complaints. "Things _will_ get better! Just you wait! Any day now our ticket out of here is going to come right through that door!" Yakko signaled to the water tower door with a dramatic flourish of the wrist.

Rusted hinges and impregnable chains stared back at him.

From another room, a faint gurgling sound could be heard.

"Oh great, the toilet's acting up." Dot glared at Wakko in accusation.

"Hey, don't look at me! I just barely woke up too!" said Wakko.

"Well I know I didn't do it, and seeing as the most obvious candidate around here would be YOU…!" yelled Dot.

"What? Just because I got cast in that _Potty Emergency_ episode, you think I did it?!" Wakko screamed back defensively.

"Well if the tacky red cap fits!" Dot screeched in reply.

Yakko shook his head, covering his ears with his gloved hands to drown out his siblings' argument as he headed over to the bathroom. No one else was going to fix the problem. Only him, always him.

Sometimes he hated being the oldest.

Yakko clambered over to the bathroom, tripping a few times over the various broken toys and discarded candy wrappers left on the floor. Yakko had tried to clean up after his siblings at first, but as the months passed with no word from the studio, he gave up. There didn't seem to be any point.

Yakko tip-toed into the bathroom, careful to avoid the water overflowing from the toilet bowl and onto the floor. Yakko scrunched up his nose in disgust. How had this even happened? They'd all been sleeping for the last few years! Was it possible that this was what had woken Wakko?

In the center of the toilet bowl, bobbing up and down in the current of flooding water, sat a rolled up newspaper.

Yakko raised an eyebrow, wondering how in the world a newspaper had managed to make its way into their toilet. The most likely explanation seemed that one of his siblings had just gotten bored and decided to flush miscellaneous objects down the toilet for entertainment. But Yakko's theory was shot down as he carefully removed the offending newspaper and unrolled it.

The date looked at him clear in the face: December 2004.

Yakko did a double take, then ran down into the kitchen, passed his still arguing siblings, poured himself a glass of water, took a sip, and then did a spit-take.

Wakko and Dot fell silent, turning to their older brother expectantly.

"What is it?" Dot asked in sisterly concern.

"Is that the Don Knott's article I thought I lost?" Wakko asked excitedly.

"No…" Yakko mouthed the words, but nothing seemed to come out. His throat felt dry and brittle, making Yakko wish he hadn't spat out his drink. Clearing his throat, Yakko tired again. "It's even better, sibs." A large grin slowly spread across the oldest Warner sibling's face. "This is our ticket out of here!"

Dot promptly snatched the dripping, yellowed newspaper out of her brother's hands, trying to make out the runny print. "What is? A smudged, soggy newspaper? Where did you even get this?"

"The toilet!" Yakko replied, nearly jumping in joy.

Dot's eyes widened in horror for a moment, and she dropped the newspaper with a squelch. "Eww!"

"Can I eat it?" Wakko said as he snatched up the discarded newspaper and lifted it above his mouth.

Yakko quickly reclaimed the paper, opening it up to the article which had caught his attention. "The date on this newspaper…"

"It's outdated?" said Wakko, noticing the yellowing of the paper.

"No, no, no! I mean, yes, probably! But that's not what matters." Yakko clicked his tongue in irritation. Why was he having so much trouble communicating this? He must be out of practice. "It's from _after_ we were locked away! Somehow, it made its way backwards through the plumbing and into our bathroom!"

"Great, so now we have an exclusive portal through which we can get outdated horoscopes from our backed-up toilet." Dot said sardonically, crossing her arms. "_Dees_-gusting! Forgive me if I don't share your enthusiasm."

"That's not what's great about it!" Wakko said, bouncing in anticipation. "There must be a reason for not letting me eat it. So what is it? Tell us Yakko!"

"Yeah, and it better be a good one." Said Dot.

"Just look here!" Yakko placed a finger on the smeared article in the movie reviews section.

"A movie review for _The Phantom of the Opera_?" Wakko scratched his head in confusion. "Why would they make another one of those?"

"Because this one's a _musical_!" Yakko said triumphantly, bracing himself for his siblings' cries of joys.

Two blank faces stared back at him.

Yeah, he'd probably have to explain.

Sometimes it was a hassle being the oldest.

"Read this line! They mention that this musical Phantom was only one of a handful of new musical which have been cropping up! Look here!" Yakko skipped through the review, or what was still legible of it, citing all the recent movies the critic had referenced. "_Moulin Rouge_, _Chicago_, and now _Phantom of the Opera_! All musicals! It even mentions a _Rent_ movie to be released in 2005, and both a _Hairspray_ and a _Dreamgirls_ movie in pre-production!"

"So?" chimed the younger Warners in unimpressed unison.

"Musicals are making a comeback!" Yakko crumpled the drenched newspaper into a ball and shot it towards the trashcan. It might've made it in too, had Wakko not jumped up and caught the paper wad in his mouth.

"Great news for Bernadette Peters, I'm sure." said Dot, rolling her eyes as Wakko swallowed the newspaper whole.

"Oh, sister sibling of little faith!" said Yakko, standing up on the counter and placing a hand to his heart in a Shakespearian fashion. "Don't you see? Don't you get it? We Warners have always prided ourselves in our witty puns and visual gags! Our biting social commentaries and contemporary pop culture references! But what truly separates us is from other cartoon of our kind is—"

"We're alive!" said Wakko and Dot, jumping up excitedly.

"Yes!" Yakko said in response to their enthusiasm, before realizing that wasn't the answer he had been expecting. "I mean, no. I mean—yes! It is _one_ of the things that separates us from most cartoons of our kind. But the _other_ thing is—"

"Our jabs at the Disney channel?" supplied Dot.

"Our ability to make fun educational, instead of trying to make education fun and failing?" Wakko provided.

"Close!" Yakko said, pointing to Wakko, earning the middle Warner a glare from his sister. "We can actually SING!"

Dot and Wakko stared at their older brother. They stared; Dot opened her mouth to say something but then closed it. They stared; Wakko blinked repeatedly. They stared and they wondered just when Yakko had lost all sense of logic.

"So… this… helps us how?" Dot finally managed.

"Sibs, we finally have something else to offer the studio besides all our crazy antics which they were so on edge about!" Yakko jumped down from the counter and pulled out the papers he had taken from Wakko earlier. He ripped the hateful papers to shreds and threw them into the air, letting them rain down on them like confetti. "We could star in a musical!"

Dot and Wakko's faces brightened, comprehension finally seeming to dawn on them. It was the happiest Yakko had seen them in years, and they hadn't even realized they were happy yet.

Sometimes he loved being the oldest.

"All we have to do is get out of here!" Yakko said thoughtfully.

"And now we can! Through our special toilet portal!" Wakko chimed in, already heading towards the bathroom. A gloved hand caught Wakko's shoulder, stopping him.

"Ehhhh, maybe we should put on some scuba gear or something first. You know, for sanitary reasons." said Yakko with a shrug.

* * *

Alright. Don't come after my with the torches and pitchforks! I know this chapter didn't have any musical parodying yet and had a bit too much angst for what it was supposed to be. Sorry, it was the set-up chapter. It had to be done. But the next chappie will have plenty of singing, dancing, and zaniness; all Warner style! I swear it on the new Animaniacs DVDs! 

Please review. And try not to be too mean... I know this isn't my best work, but I really was just rushing to get to the musicals... Right guys?

**Dot:** How much are they paying us for this?

**Yakko:** Not a cent. It's fanfiction. Just be glad they haven't killed any of us off... yet.

**Wakko:** I'm tired...

**Yakko:** Weren't you just complaining about sleeping so much?


	2. ChicWakko: It's Time to Spazz

Okay, let me explain how this story is going to work so I can clear up any confusion.

Basically, there will be a storyline. (Gasp! No way!) But it will be written around the specific musicals the Warners will be parodying. That means singing... and lots of it. Hope that doesn't throw any of you off, but I thought I'd give fair warning just incase.

So what is the first musical they will be parodying?

(draws a name out of a hat)

And the winner is... CHICAGO!

Alright then, for the next few chapters we'll have Chicago parodies. The first song? Why, "All That Jazz" of course!

Introducing... CHIC-WAKKO!

* * *

**Chic-Wakko:**

**It's Time to Spazz**

"Ready?"

"Ready!"

"Ready!"

The Warner siblings, securely tucked together in bubble wrap prepared themselves for their dive through the water tower plumbing.

"It seems a shame to flush down anything so _cute_." Dot said melodramatically, batting her eyelashes.

Wakko burped.

Dot raised an eyebrow. "Well, at least it's a shame to flush _two_ of us."

"Alright sibs!" Yakko said, poised to jump into their trusty toilet bowl. "Here we go! In the name of freedom! In the name of liberty! In the name of great art and the opposition of censorship! In the name of… the pretty girls on the other side." He finished with his eyebrows wagging.

"Helloooo nurse!" added Wakko.

"Boys." Dot said, rolling her eyes. "Go fig."

"Here… we… go!" cried Yakko dramatically before plunging into the murky depths of their plumbling…

…only to get stuck.

"Huh." Yakko said pensively. "It's more shallow than expected."

"So now what?" Dot asked, anxious to get to the outside world already.

"Ooh! I know what to do!" said Wakko excitedly, tongue poking out of his mouth as always.

"And what's that, Wakko?" Yakko asked encouragingly.

"What I always do when something's in the loo!" Wakko laughed as he launched himself onto the toilet handle and gave a hard flush.

"No, wait!" Cried Yakko and Dot, but it was too late.

The water around them spun rapidly, pulling all three Warners down into the blackness of their pipes.

The Warners found themselves in complete darkness, rushing through the water and other miscellaneous chunks of who-knew-what floating in the current. Wakko licked at the bubble wrap, unable to get to the appetizing looking debris outside of it.

"Wee!" cried the Warners as they turned and dropped through the pipes like a roller coaster.

"Wee-wee!" They corrected themselves, unable to resist the obvious pun.

And suddenly, they were pouring out of the pipe, into the light, and hit the floor with a hard thud.

Always quick to recover, the Warners burst out of their bindings and posed triumphantly.

Only after their little victory dance did they look around to see if they had even made it out of the water tower.

Inside the room was dim. All the lights were off, but sunlight still streamed in from the curtained windows. Everywhere, on counters and large shelves, hanging off the walls, on hooks and inside cases, rested knick-knacks and trinkets of all sorts. Batman bobble heads, Superman brand underwear, Loony Toons plush toys, and even vintage Freakazoid lunch pales.

"Where are we?" Wakko asked, looking around him in awe.

Yakko narrowed his eyes, his suspicions confirmed by the evidence around him. "It's closed right now, sibs. But I think we're in the one place where all the garbage from the media goes." That explained why the toilet had led here.

"And where is that?" asked Dot curiously, picking up a Lola Bunny plush and shaking here roughly, as if interrogating her.

"Sibs, we're in… the merchandise store room!" Yakko announced.

Wakko and Dot's eyes widened and Dot dropped the Lola Bunny plush.

"So… that means…" Wakko said, still unsure.

"We made it!" Dot cried excitedly, jumping up onto her eldest brother and securing him in a tight vice-like hug. "We're out of the tower!"

Yakko smiled, despite his crushed lungs. Phase one of "Operation Escape Through The Toilet" was complete. Unfortunately, that was the _only_ phase of O.E. Triple T.

"Time for a whole new phase." Yakko said with a mischievous glint in his eye. The old feeling was coming back, the feeling that it was time for some trouble-making. He could feel himself shaking in anticipation! Or was it from lack of oxygen?

Prying Dot off of him, Yakko signaled to his siblings as he slid opened the large storage door in front of them. The sun cast its rays down on the Warners as they stepped out onto the movie lot, almost like a giant spotlight.

"So… what do we do now?" Wakko asked, munching on a Tiny Toons pen and pencil set.

Yakko grinned, the music starting up in his head, just like old times.

"_Come on sibs  
Why don't we raid the lot?"_

Yakko sang as he led his siblings out into the center of the movie lot. It was amazing how much the place hadn't changed with time.

_"It's time to spazz!"_

He pulled out a powder-puff from his pants and patted his nose, smirking for the visual gag.

"_I'm gonna rouge my nose  
Let's go Wakko and Dot"_

He threw the powder-puff to the wind and turned to his siblings.

"_It's time to spazz!"_

Yakko grabbed Dot, then Wakko, and led them to the old studio where the old Dot's poetry corner segments were filmed.

"_C'mon Dot  
I know a poetry spot  
Wakko, you'll like it too  
Because the food is hot!"_

Yakko pulled out a plate of food and stuffed it into Wakko's mouth for emphasis. Wakko swallowed the meal, dish and all, and breathed fire in response. Laughing, all three Warners ran into the studio.

Inside, it was quiet. The once animated and lively studio was now nothing more than rows of meek secretaries, silently seated at their desks, the only sound in the air being that of their typing.

"_It's just a quiet hall?"_ protested Wakko, disappointed.

"_Until we start a brawl!"_ announced Yakko, startling the meek secretaries, whom hadn't experienced a loud voice while indoors in their lives.

"_It's time!"_ sang Dot, jumping up on a desk.

"_To!"_ sang Wakko, swallowing a secretary's computer whole.

"_Spazz…"_ finished Yakko, sliding on his knees down an aisle.

"Ahh!" screamed the secretaries as they fled from their desks.

"_It's time to spazz!" _sang the Warners, grabbing a secretary each and using them as a dance partner.

"Let me go!" cried the male secretary in Dot's arms.

"Help me!" cried the female secretaries in Yakko and Wakko's grasps.

"_It's time to spazz!"_

"No! No! No!" cried the secretaries, trying to escape through the doors, only to find that they had been sealed shut.

They turned around in horror to face their assailants, who were currently busying themselves with building a stage out of the overturned desks.

Dot took center stage, twirling around and batting her eyelashes adorably.

Yakko called to her from off to the side:  
"_Dance now, sis  
I hear they're playing your song"_

"_It's time to spazz!"_ sang the Warners in unison.

Dot pulled Wakko over to her side and turned to the audience, saying:  
"_If you're lucky, maybe  
Wakko will burp along!"_

Wakko obliged, burping up a little ditty to while Dot tap danced to it.

"_It's time to spazz!"_

Yakko took the stage then, top hat and cane in hand, and he belted out the next verse while Wakko accompanied him on trombone and Dot on saxophone.

"_Hold on, sibs  
We're the cream of the crop  
We're gonna rock the house  
Until they beg us to stop!"_

A beautiful, young secretary stepped forward bravely, pushing up her stylish but modest glasses as she opened her mouth to voice a complaint. But before she could voice her complaint, Yakko and Wakko had already launched themselves into her arms.

"_Hellooo Nurse!  
For you, we'll skip a verse  
Come join… the…"_

Dot grabbed her brothers, rolling her eyes as she pulled them back on stage to finish the song, and belted out a strong:

"_Spaaaaazz!"_

A loud BANG sounded through the room as the locked double doors flew open, and in came a small squad of security guards to investigate the screaming.

"_Don't look now  
Our special friends are loose"_ Yakko jerked a thumb back at the guards, pointing them out to his siblings.

"_It's time to spazz!" _The Warners grinned innocently as the guards charged at them.

"_Right back here  
Is where I store the juice" _said Wakko as he inconspicuously reached behind him and pulled out his signature mallet.

"_It's time to spazz!"_ sang the Warners as Wakko flattened the guards in only a couple strikes of his mallet.

Yakko put up his hands, forming a square with his fingers and looking through it like a frame, admiring the chaos.  
"_Come on, sibs  
We've got a movie to shoot"_

Dot leapt into Yakko's outstretched arms, batting her eyes charmingly.  
"_I bet you Minnie Mouse  
Never looked so cute!"  
_

Wakko picked up a giant television monitor, which flipped through several channels; all showing the Warners run amock.  
"_Even the BBC  
Will tune in to see"_

"_The Warners spazz!" _Yakko and Dot sang, as Wakko swallowed the television set whole.

"_Oh, you're gonna see Dot do her cute act!"_ sang the Warner brothers as Dot twirled adorably.

"_Please stop that spazz!"_ cried the secretaries.

"_Oh, and then you'll all see Yakko yak!"_ sang Wakko and Dot, as Yakko pulled down a map of the world and wagged his eyebrows, before letting the map roll back up and disappear.

"_No please, not that!"_

"_Wakko packs away snacks!"_ sang Dot and Yakko as Wakko effectively packed away a truckload of snacks.

"_While Bill Clinton plays sax!"_ the Warners sang together, approaching their victims slowly with manic smiles.

"_Please stay away  
We'll even pay!"_ cried the secretaries, throwing out all their valuables at the Warners' feet.

"_It's time…"_ said Dot with a smirk.

"_To…"_ said Wakko with a sly smile.

"Spazz…" Whispered Yakko naughtily, as all three Warners burst through the studio doors and back out onto the lot.

Then, with a swell of the sourceless music around them, the Warner siblings marched through the lot in their famous "romping" conga line.

"_Watch out WB staff!  
The Warner siblings are back!" _belted Yakko, his voice echoing through the entire lot. Everywhere, offices opened their windows and doors to look out at the source of the commotion

"_It's time!"_ yelled Dot

"_To!"_ bellowed Wakko!

"_Spaaaaaazz!_" sang the Warners in perfect harmony, shaking the lot with the force of their voices.

"That's spazz!" gasped the corrupt and formerly quiet employees of the Warner Brothers lot.

* * *

Heeeey. I have reviews! 

You know, it's always hard to branch off into a new fandom's fanfiction. You get nice and cozy writing about one thing, and people on fanfic start recognizing your penname and looking up to you like you're some writing ICON.

Then you try writing about something else and you have to start all over again, like a little noob.

Not that I mind, in fact its part of the fun. It's just interesting to think about... or not.

Anyway, review replies for my wonderful reviewers!

**Queenofotakus: **Thank you so much! Yeah, sorry about my typoes. I don't really have a beta, and I don't have much time to re-read things because of work and school... I'll try to be more careful though. Thanks for pointing it out!

**DancesWithCorpses: **Y-YOU'RE reviewing this little story?! An Animaniacs fanfic MASTER? Eep! Thanks! Yeah, I know what you mean about people tending to skip over lyrics. And I knew writing as fic like this would be a risk. But I'm going to give it a shot anyway,. The whole premise of this fic was to write song parodies, so it would be kinda difficult to go on without doing so. Ah well, I guess I'll just have to wait and see what happens.

**The Middle Warner Sibling: **(Takes a deep breath) ... SQUEE! MWS! MWS! (glomps) Welcome to my story! Here, have a seat, and ssome cookies, and... heck, take the whole room! Thank you so much for your review. It means a whole lot, especially coming from an author as talented as you. And don't thank me for the shout-out. Thank yourself for writing such a magnificent story! Speaking of which... (whispers) my reviews for that story aren't too long, are they? I just always have so much to say after reading your chapters...

**acosta perez jose ramiro: **Thanks! I'm so relieved to know you liked it. I tried to keep their humor, which is hard since I haven't watched the show in so long and have only been able to dig up a few episodes online. Still, if you like it, then it's worth it!

**hahajopo: **I always hold a special place for the first person to review one of my stories. Here, (hands you a giant sack with a dollar sign on it) have a bag of money!


	3. ChicWakko: Other Brother

Wow, okay, so... I am SO sorry this took so long. I actually had it finished the day after I posted the last chapter. But I'm moving again, so I haven't had internet, and I probably still won't have it for a few days.

How am I posting this now then? Ah, well, where there's a will, there's a way my dear readers.

**Random Library Kid: **Hey! C'mon, lady! Give someone else a turn!

**Pleading Eyes:** DON'T CENSOR MY ART! Ahem.

Anyway, here's the next chapter. Hope ya like it! And a special thanks to ForTheLoveOfSugar. There, I said it. Now stop hounding me. Haha, just kidding. You know you're amazing, you don't need me to inflate your ego.

* * *

**Chic-Wakko:  
Other Brother**

The Warners looked around the lot, expecting an eruption of applause for their performance. Instead, they were greeted with terrified and confused WB employees, lingering in the doorways and peeking out their windows in horrified curiosity.

Wakko surveyed the lot, watching as every person he made contact eye with shrunk back or let out a short yelp. "Didn't they like our song?" he asked, scratching his hat.

"Hmm, they probably just didn't understand it." assumed Yakko.

"Whoa," Dot said, putting her hands on her hips in amusement, "dumber than advertised."

Taking a glance around, Yakko's eyes caught sight of a familiar face breaking into a cold sweat up in highest floor of the tallest building on the lot.

"TP!" Yakko called, waving excitedly at Thaddeus Plotz; CEO of Warner Brothers studios.

Plotz pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his brow in response. This couldn't be happening… it was a nightmare!

"Hey, let's go up and pitch our song to Plotzy." Yakko said, already starting off towards the office.

"Aww… like a business meeting?" Wakko whined, his ears drooping low in a farce of depression. "But we just got out. Can't we have a little more fun before we get to work?"

"Now sibs," Yakko said, turning back to his siblings reasonably, "remember the whole reason we escaped? We have to convince the studio to produce a musical starring us! Which I'm sure won't be hard, who could resist _this_ face?" Yakko put his hand to his chin, admiring the feel of his own features.

"But I've got all this pent-up energy!" whined Wakko.

"I know, I know. So let's get this over with quickly and then we can play the rest of the day, alright?" Yakko said.

Wakko nodded grudgingly and followed.

The Warners waltzed right into the office, whistling and skipping as they did so. So far the day was shaping up pretty much as they had expected.

Until, unexpectedly, Yakko's eyes fell upon Plotz's new secretary; a pretty young woman with a low cut-top and high-cut skirt. Oh heck, everything was cut in just the right places! How was such attire even work appropriate? Not that Yakko cared about dress codes at the moment. In fact, at that moment he was thinking dress codes were made to be broken.

"Hellooo secretarial nurse!" Yakko howled, suddenly remembering his brother Wakko when he heard Wakko's voice quote the exact pick-up line.

Damn, he had forgotten all about Wakko! He was going to cramp his smooth style, and just when he was about to make a new impression on a new lady friend.

"Um, Wakko?" Yakko said, suddenly feeling very cunning. "You know, I can probably make this pitch myself. So why don't you just go out and run off some of that energy like you wanted to?"

"Oh, that's alright." Wakko waved him off, hovering over the secretary. "I'm starting to like it here more."

"But I insist!" Yakko grabbed his brother and ushered him out the door. "You don't have to stay here just for my sake. Go on, have fun! Be young! And please restrain yourself; that means no mallet or anvils!" Wakko struggled, but with his longer legs and stronger arms, Yakko managed to get him out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

Sometimes it was convenient being the oldest.

"Ahem." said Dot, tapping her foot indignantly. Oh yes, he had almost forgotten her too. "You know you're not fooling anyone."

She was too clever for her own good. She had to go.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Yakko said, feigning offended as he ushered her out as well. "Now, why don't you go make sure Wakko doesn't get himself into too much trouble, hmm?" SLAM—the door was shut in Dot's face before she could make a comeback. But through the door, Yakko was almost sure he heard her mutter an annoyed "Boys… go fig!"

And now to woo his lady…

"Hey, beautiful." Yakko said charmingly, turning on his own cute act. "When you get off work, you want to come by my place and see my zipper collection?"

The secretary, a sharp-eyed young woman with her dark hair tied back messily into a tight bun, only raised an eyebrow, not even bothering to look up at Yakko. "You have a zipper collection?" she asked skeptically.

"No… but if you come by, I'm sure we could find _something_ for you to unzip!" Yakko said, wagging his eyebrows.

"Hmm, as tempting as it sounds, I think even _I_ couldn't zip your mouth shut." The secretary bit back, her attention still focused on the papers on her desk.

Yakko's mouth hung open dumbly for a second before what had just happened sunk in. This little secretary had just _zinged_ him! _Him_! Yakko friggin' Warner! And when he usually would have been prepared with the perfect comeback, Yakko suddenly found himself at a loss. Mostly because he hadn't expected any brain function from this girl, and partly too because he didn't have his sibs rooting him on as he usually did.

Yakko suddenly felt a bizarre feeling rush through him. He looked at this girl and he felt… annoyed! Totally and utterly annoyed! And now that he got a good look at her, he realized that he didn't find her beautiful at all! She couldn't even pass for pretty! She was the very epitome of _plain_. And she had such a rude demeanor, and the suit she was wearing didn't fit her at all, and…

"Oh, yeah?" Yakko blurted out, suddenly finding his voice again. "Well, you're so plain that the rain in Spain stays mainly in you!"

He crossed his arms triumphantly and awaited her response, prepared with at least a dozen more verbal counters of his own. Her little surprise attack might have caught him off guard, but she was no match!

"I'm not arguing with you." She said, stifling a yawn of boredom, still refusing to look up at him. "Now, if you don't have an appointment, I suggest you sit down over there because it's going to be a long wait." She pointed to the row of chairs on the far end of the wall.

Now Yakko was beyond annoyed. He was downright irate! But he couldn't humiliate her in a verbal spar if she refused to participate, and he could hardly mallet her into submission; seeing as he was here to convince Plotz that he and his siblings were capable of more than just loony violence.

Arms crossed indignantly, Yakko stormed over to the chairs to the far wall. Not because he was being obedient, but simply because it was the furthest spot in the room from that stupid, rude, _plain_ secretary.

Sitting down with a harrumph, Yakko wished he hadn't sent his siblings away so hastily. Times sure had changed in their absence.

But while Yakko sat, glaring daggers at the secretary, he was naïve as to what Plotz was up to behind his office door. The panicked CEO had heard the Warners come in loudly, as they always did, and was busy with making several frenzied phone calls; phone calls that did not bode well for the Warners.

Meanwhile, Wakko and Dot weren't faring especially well either. After being kicked out of the office, they had initially thought to run around the lot like in the good ol' days. But without anyone chasing them, the game soon became pointless and dull. It felt even worse—when they attempted to think up a game of their own—to realize that Yakko was always the one with all the ideas and that neither of them had any idea what they should do for fun.

In desperate boredom, Wakko and Dot had settled with wandering around the lot in a zombie-like fashion.

And then, to their delight, something interesting looking rolled into the lot! It was a large van with a picture, of a man wielding a mallet over a small animal of rodent persuasion, painted on the side.

"What's that?" asked Wakko, tilting his head in curiosity.

"Burbank Animal Control?" read Dot off the van. "Hmm, wonder if an accountant snapped and got loose in the lot."

"Well whatever it is, it can't be all bad." Wakko said with a naïve smile. "Anything with a mallet is okay in my book!"

"Since when do you own a book?" Dot muttered.

"C'mon, let's go see!" Wakko said, suddenly bouncing.

"No." Dot said reasonably. "We should wait for Yakko first."

"Yakko isn't here." Wakko argued, pursing his lips in a self-important fashion. "That makes _me_ the oldest brother. Which leaves _me_ in charge! And _I_ say we go check it out."

"And who can argue with that logic," Dot replied, "or lack thereof?" She added under her breath.

"Hurray! We're going to see the va-an! We're going to see the va-an!" Wakko said in a sing-song voice as he jumped onto said van.

"The heck?" said the man inside the van, scratching his bushy mustache with one finger as he stepped out, slamming the van door shut behind him.

"Boing-y, boing-y, boing-y!" chanted Wakko as he gleefully bounced atop the van.

"What the—?" The man, dressed in a grey jumpsuit which read 'Hector', scratched the matching grey cap on his head as he checked the top the van. Empty, the source of the noise had vanished. "What was that?"

"Excuse me, Mr. Man?" called Dot, hiding her hands behind her back and fidgeting on her toes adorably. Hector the exterminator turned around, jumping a foot in the air in surprise at her sudden appearance. "Whatcha doin' here in our pwetty widdle lot?"

Hector the exterminator gulped, reaching into the van window and groping around inside desperately while keeping his eyes fixed on Dot. "L-l-looking to solve a p-p-pest problem."

"Oh, _weally_?" said Dot, her voice rising up to an adorable but painful pitch. "What kind of pest?"

Hector the exterminator continued to grope around the front seat desperately, his entire arm and shoulder now wedged into the window, but he refused to take his eyes off Dot. "The chart says it's an unidentified animal. Some kind of weird puppy-kitty-bunny-monkey cubs." He explained, mostly just hoping to keep the strange creature in front of him distracted.

"Hmm, weird puppy-kitty-bunny-monkey cub?" Dot said, feigning pensive. "You mean with big floppy ears like a bunny?" she said, gesturing to her own ears.

"Uh…uh… uh-huh."

"With large, padded puppy paws, like these?" Dot said, holding up one of her fluffy white feet.

"Yessir—erm—ma'am—erm—you."

"And thin, sleek, kitty bodies; like this?" Dot said, running one hand down her hips; as the other went behind her head, putting her in a modeling pose.

"And with evolved monkey hands, like these?" Dot said, putting out her hands daintily, as if expecting a manicure.

"Mmm-hmm?" Hector the exterminator hummed, his fingers brushing against a stainless steel handle between the seats.

"Nope, never heard of anything like that." Dot said with a shrug, walking off, satisfied with her comedy bit.

"Gotcha!" said Hector the exterminator with relief, having finally found the net he had been groping around for, and throwing it over Dot. Hector the exterminator took in several heaving breaths to calm himself as he scooped Dot up and tied off the open end of the net; preventing escape. "Geez, no one warned me you'd talk!"

"No one warned me you were a fanboy." Dot said, struggling with the netting. "Seriously, infatuation is a problem. You need help, dear."

Hector the exterminator paid no mind to Dot's protests, funny as they were, and slung the net over his shoulder as he walked around to the van's back. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a bundle of keys on a ring, and unlocked the large double doors to the van's cargo area. With a grunt, he unceremoniously dumped Dot into the barred cargo area and slammed the doors shut.

With an effort, Dot managed to untangle herself from the net. Outside she could hear the jingling of keys as Hector the exterminator locked the doors. A sudden rush of panic washing over her, Dot rushed over to the barred window and stood up on her tip-toes to peer outside.

Gripping the bars, Dot shook the van doors with as much strength as she could muster. The doors clanged, but remained firmly shut.

Well, she could always make herself appear elsewhere, couldn't she?

Oh, but she had never done it without her oldest brother's prompting before! Come to think of it, she had never even _considered_ trying it. Well, better late than never. Dot closed her eyes and focused, trying to remember exactly how it always started. The second and third steps were clear in her mind, but the first step seemed to be escaping her.

No good, she couldn't do it. Dot inhaled suddenly, realizing she had been holding her breath, and opened her eyes. Nope, she was still trapped.

She was _trapped_! The reality of her situation began to sink in. Someone had called animal control on her and her brothers, and they had caught her!

Gripping the window bars nervously, Dot peeked back outside.

And there was Wakko!

She was about to call out and ask him how to cartoon her way out, when she noticed he seemed to be talking to someone. No, not talking, arguing.

"Look, I-I-I'm just doing my job!" said Hector the exterminator, clutching a broken handle with a torn net in his hands. Wakko seemed to have taken a bite out of the offending net, and Hector the exterminator was sweating bullets in response.

"And I'm doing my job as an older brother!" Wakko replied indignantly, poking his finger into Hector's chest. "Now let her out!"

Dot smiled in spite of her situation. Wakko may not have been brother of the year, and sure he was more likely to inspire disgust or annoyance rather than sisterly affection from Dot, but he had his moments. Like now, as she watched him argue away with a man who had been sent to nab him, all to protect his younger sister.

Dot smiled softly, her eyes half-lidded, as a snazzy saxophone blared lazily in the background, accompanied by a lilting piano.

"And now, Dot Warner in a song of devotion to her beloved brother. No, not Yakko. The other one." said a disembodied announcer.

"_I'm usually right  
He's usually wrong  
But he doesn't care  
He'll bob along  
He loves me so  
That other brother of mine_" Dot sang, the suddenly materialized pianist helping her up onto the piano, where Dot sat, now wearing a glittering evening gown.

Never mind where the lounge piano and jazz pianist, or the saxophone and the cool cat playing it, had come from. Nonetheless, they were suddenly there and Dot used them to her full advantage to enhance her jazzy ballad.  
"_Sometimes I smile  
Sometimes I pout  
But he follows 'round  
With his tongue sticking out  
He loves me so  
That other brother of mine_"

Dot lay down over the piano, hugging herself as she rolled onto her back, then back on her belly, winking at the pianist.  
"_He's got some screws loose  
Doesn't have my cute caboose  
And I know he isn't that smart_"

Dot sat up and turned to face the barred window, looking out at Wakko who stood out there with his arms crossed in defense of his sister.  
"_Oh, but look at those eyes  
Always filled with surprise  
Besides, we can always give him  
A much smaller part_"

Dot crossed her legs, putting one hand on her chest as she sang breathlessly.  
"_And if you knew him like me  
I know you'd agree…"_

Dot stood on the piano, putting her arms out to the non-existent audience in a sweeping motion.  
"_What if the world  
Started talking smack?  
Why, he'd be right there  
To give it a whack!"_ Dot enacted a whack, swinging too hard and losing her balance, falling off the piano and hitting the floor hard.

She stood up quickly, patting down her disheveled fur and ears, and continued her song as if nothing had happened.  
"_He loves me so  
And it all suits me fine  
That funny, silly, wacky  
Brother of mine_"

Outside, Wakko was still arguing heatedly with Hector the exterminator. Normally he would've pulled out his mallet and ended this a lot sooner, but Yakko had specifically asked him to restrain himself.

"Besides, we're supposed to be here!" Wakko said. "You better let her go right now, if you know what's good for you! This instant! Don't make me get the lawyers out here! We're under contract, you know! They see this and they'll… you know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean." said Hector the exterminator nervously, not sure what to make of the appearance of another puppy-kitty-bunny-monkey thing.

"You know what I mean? They'll sue the pants off you, that's what! Good thing it's me here and not them. Just imagine what they'd have to say about all this!" Wakko continued threateningly.

Dot smiled as she watched the confrontation approvingly, leaning against the piano, her head resting back on the top.  
"_He loves me so  
That other brother of mine_"

"What exactly are you children?" asked Hector the exterminator, gripping his destroyed net more tightly.

Wakko smiled as he jammed his thumb into his own chest, thrilled to know the answer. "We're the Warner Brothers! And she's the Warner Sister!" He pointed to the van in explanation. "You probably haven't heard about us, the studio's been keeping us under wraps for years."

Dot looked up, her eyes wide in concern. No, Wakko couldn't be that dense… could he?  
"_I know he isn't that smart_"

"That's right! Had us locked up in that tower until today." Wakko prattled on. It wasn't very often that people listened to him. Yakko usually did most of the talking, so it was nice to have someone listening to him, Wakko, for once.

"Really?" Hector the exterminator pulled out his order sheet, detailing what his job requirement for this lot was. "But, I mean, what kind of animals are you supposed to be?"

"We're not really any sort of animal." Wakko felt like he was really on a roll today! He was a real talker too, who knew? "We're living cartoon characters. Pretty amazing, huh? No one's been able to duplicate it ever since. We're just special like that. So now I'm sure you realize why it's so important that you let my sister go, seeing how valuable we are…"

Dot screeched, pushing the saxophone player over in her rage, panting heavily in fury.  
"_Now, he shot off his trap  
I can't stand that sap!"_

Dot pointed to Wakko in outrage, whirling on her accompaniment, who stopped playing and winced in fear.  
"_Look at him go  
Letting our secrets fly  
If he even had one  
Then his brain I would fry_!" She raged on, ripping her evening gown off, revealing her normal pink skirt underneath.

"Yep, nothing like us in the whole world! Why, I bet one of us alone would be worth unholy amounts of money. Too bad no one can figure out the secret to how we were created. I tell ya, if anyone ever did, they'd have it made. It's probably impossible, though. Unless someone were to maybe capture one of us and perform a lot of insane medical tests." It seemed once you got Wakko going, there was no stopping him, much like his brother Yakko. But unlike Yakko, Wakko was not so selective with his words.

Dot gripped the window's bars, yelling through them as loud as she could over Wakko's chatter.  
"_Now I'll end up on eBay  
Selling for one ninety nine!"_

Wakko seemed not to hear as he continued with his steady stream of blather. "But hey, even that has no guarantee of working. We don't exactly follow the rules of anatomy. Well anyway, nice chatting with you. Now can I have my sister back?"

Dot stormed over to the piano, flipping it over in her anger, squishing both her accompaniments with it. Still not satisfied, she snatched up the saxophone and proceeded to smash it against the wreckage that was once a piano.  
"_That scummy,  
Crummy,  
Dummy,  
Ex-brother of mine!"_

And as Dot's final note rang out, five more Animal Control vans drove in, circling Wakko. Five nets were thrown over him, and the struggling Warner was thrown into the back of another van.

"Dot!" he called out as the vans sped away, out of the Warner movie lot, "I'm sorry…" he whispered, even though she was too far ahead to hear.

* * *

Gasp! The plot thinnens! I know I've made Wakko come off as a bit of an idiot so far, and I'm sorry. But I promise it's for a reason. Since this part of the fic is "ChicWakko", he needs to be the one to develop... besides, this isn't a fic to be taken seriously. It's just an excuse to throw song parodies together. 

I promise someday I will write a serious A! fic and actually put some effort. Just... not right now. (shifty-eyed)

Now then, review replies!

**ForTheLoveOfSugar: **Ah, so you finally READ it, instead of just hounding me for a special thanks, huh? Haha, no, actually, thanks so much for inspiring this fic. Even though you insisted that I NOT write it, and to write something better instead, I still thank you for inspiring it. You'll like it better later. Really.

**KitchenSink: **Yeah, I'm not one for songfics either. But this idea was one I couldn't pass up, and I decided to take the risk. Thanks so much for giving my story a chance! It means a lot to get a positive review from one of the A! fanfiction giants. (I mean that in the best sense, honestly.) As for keeping within the confines of what's mainstream, you have a good point, and I may just have to do that. Thanks for the tip and I really hope you'll continue to enjoy the story.

**dth1971: **Hahaha. Well if anyone needed a comeback musical parody, it was the Warners. As for Slappy getting a musical comeback, I don't think it would work. Simply because she'd get sick of all the singing within the first two minutes. Ah well, that's what her characters about. Thanks so much for the review!

**acosta perez jose ramiro: **No, thank YOU for you reviews! A reply is the least I could do. Your encouragement means a lot to me and my little fic... or is that my little fic and me? Hmm... (Goes off to ponder the question)

**The Middle Warner Sibling: **The Middle Warner Sibling? THE The Middle Warner Sibling?! Reviewing _my _little fic?! Eep! (glomps) If I was a Warner, I'd want YOU to write about me... No, wait! Don't call security! I'm sane, I promise! Ahh! (runs)

**DancesWithCorpses:** Yes! I was hoping that would be what set this story apart from just another songfic, which usually just get the lyrics skipped over. It seems to have had mild success, and I'm pretty happy about it. Incedentally, I happen to have this sharpie. And seeing as you are an amazing fanfic author, would you mind signing my braaaain? Maybe some of your genius will rub off on me. No, not security again! Don't call them! AHHH! (runs)

**YakkingYakko: **Oh my Yakko! I seem to be getting all the stars of A! fanfiction here! YES! I'm like those talentless people who get famous just because they party with celebrities! I love your stories! They're all like real A! scripts. In fact, I think I'll go review them as soon as I have my own internet back.

**looneytunecrazy:** Yes, parodying Disney songs is tempting. I'm just not sure if the Warners will cooperate, seeing as they're WB. Well, we'll see. Thanks for the review!


	4. ChicWakko: Fan Attack Tango

Thank you everyone who applied for a cameo. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough takers, so I wasn't able to put in the cameos as I originally planned. Instead, I just made a compilation of as many fan stereoptypes I could think of. Please don't be offended, its supposed to be taken as satire, not fact.

And without further ado, let the creepiest chapter yet commence.

* * *

**Chic Wakko:  
Fan Attack Tango**

Yakko gave a long suffering sigh, meant to annoy the little secretary as she shuffled about the documents on her desk. As usual, she gave no indication to even being aware of his presence. What was she doing that took so long anyway?

Yakko sighed again, more loudly, drawing it out. He couldn't be sure, but it felt like he'd been waiting for hours. That accursed secretary hadn't even bothered to buzz Mr. Plotz to tell him that Yakko was waiting! And that only added the fact that Yakko already found the secretary to be beyond poor company. She was downright nasty. Several times Yakko had tried to start up a brief conversation with a small joke or a witty observation. But the secretary never even bat an eyelash, which was probably the worst reaction one could give Yakko Warner. Mean remarks he could deal with, he could always twist them around in his favor. Complete and utter silence left him unarmed.

What was worse was the rising anxiety building up in Yakko's stomach. He never left his siblings' side for more than a minute and as hard as he tried to tell himself that his fears were illogical, he couldn't help but dread that something had happened. At this point he didn't even want to make the pitch to Plotz anymore. He'd settle for Plotz just knowing he was _here._ But that damn secretary couldn't pry her stupid eyes away from her papers long enough to give him the time of day.

The phone had rung once and Yakko had almost jumped up and answered it himself. For some reason, his stomach started doing somersaults, fearing irrationally that the call was concerning his siblings. When the secretary took down the message for Plotz, Yakko had walked over and pretended to yawn, using is as an excuse to lean over and check what she had written down. Scribbled down on the little notepad was something about Animal Control and catching some escaped animals. Yakko had settled and returned to his seat. That had nothing to do with them.

Yakko slumped down in his chair, his long legs sliding across the smooth, cold, waxed floor. It'd be so much fun to slide across a floor like this. He'd have to be sure to tell his sibs later. That is, if he ever got out of this office waiting room!

A buzz sounded on the intercom. The secretary set her papers aside and listened in.

"You're kidding. All I had to do all this time was buzz to get your attention?" Yakko joked, mostly to alleviate his own stress.

The secretary, again without looking at him, simply shushed him and spoke into the intercom. "Yes, Mr. Plotz?"

"Cancel all my appointments. I'm still waiting for a call back from Animal Control." came Plotz's familiar voice from the intercom.

"They called back about half an hour ago, sir." The secretary replied, taking the notepad in her hands as she read the message she has taken aloud. "I took a message. They said they caught both of the escaped creatures and will be sending you the bill."

"Bill? Dirty, rotten, over-chargers." Plotz muttered. There was a short silence, in which the secretary returned to her paperwork, before the intercom sounded again. Plotz's voice was much more urgent this time. "Did you say 'both'?"

"Yes, sir." The secretary replied, thinking nothing of it. "That's what they said."

Yakko could practically picture Plotz's face going pale, and that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach flared up again. What was going on?

"I specifically told them _three_!" Plotz chastised through the intercom heatedly. "_Three_ crazy creatures running around in our lot! Not two! What were they thinking?!"

"The exterminator said he only saw two at the scene, sir." The secretary said, unaffected by Plotz's—and secretly Yakko's—mounting panic.

"Of course he didn't see them all! They try to trick you! It's what those Warners _do_!" raged Plotz.

Before Yakko had even processed what he'd just heard, his body had already reacted. He suddenly found himself smashing down Plotz's door with a miniature wrecking ball.

The rude little secretary looked up with a shriek.

"Oh sure, _now_ you look up!" Yakko spat. But he didn't have time to deal with her now. He had bigger CEOs to fry.

Yakko grabbed the miniature wrecking ball he had pulled from thin air and tossed it out of the scene into non-existence. He then turned towards the splintered debris that remained of the door and stepped over it pointedly.

"Good to see you, TP!" Yakko said, his voice cheery but lined with sarcasm. "Now I'm waiting for you to explain that the whole Animal Control thing was an April Fool's joke in poor taste."

"But it's August!" squeaked Plotz, cowering behind his desk that had always seemed too large for the short and squat CEO.

"That's why it's in poor taste!" Yakko said, marching up to the desk and hopping onto to it. Lying flat on the desk's smooth counter, Yakko hung his head over the edge and peaked down at the man shuddering in the corner.

He looked much older than Yakko remembered him...

"Hey, did you know you're upside-down?" Yakko said, getting only a terrified whimper as a response. Sighing, Yakko slipped down under the desk, squatting to face the CEO directly. "Now you're okay."

"Look, it's not what you think!" Plotz said hurriedly, inching as far back as he could into his desk. "I don't want any trouble!"

"Oh, Plotzy. You say the darndest things!" Yakko said with a forced chuckle. "When have I ever been any trouble?"

Steeling his courage, the trembling CEO seemed to puff up his chest as he leaned forward, still sweating bullets, and poked Yakko in the nose. "Now look here! I won't stand for this! You behave yourself now or I'll have to call security! And my new security are no fools, they can handle whatever you have to dish out!"

Yakko grabbed the offending hand at his face and moved it aside, his grip harder than he really intended it to be. But his nerves were getting the better of him, and Yakko couldn't cope with the thought of his siblings in trouble. "Now, TP, don't be so rash. You have no idea what I'm capable of." Though his voice was as light-hearted as ever, there was a clearly evident undertone of threat.

Wrenching his aching hand out of Yakko's vice-like grasp, Plotz reached up onto his desk and found the intercom button. "Dear, would you mind getting the address to the Animal Control offices for my guest here?" Plotz voice echoed outside the room from the other intercom.

"Right away, sir." Came the secretary's surprisingly compliant reply, she didn't even bother to use the intercom.

Yakko backed out from under the desk and turned to leave. He had no interest in hanging around. His one and only priority at the moment was his siblings. He paused only to snatch up a ring of keys sitting on Plotz's desk. Keys to a certain set of chains; he had known they were coming. Yakko walked over the debris and out of the office, into the waiting room. There, the little secretary approached him cautiously, pulling her skirt down nervously as she came, and handed him a scrap of paper with trembling hands. Only now, standing before her, did Yakko realize just how young this girl really was. She was so tiny, she couldn't have been any older than twenty.

Yakko took the paper offered to him nonchalantly, glancing at the address, before looking up at the girl. And for the first time since he had entered the office, she looked at him.

"You…" her mouth formed the word, but no sound came out. She took a breath to try again and managed to squeak out, "you're a cartoon!"

Yakko rolled his eyes, trying to decide between sarcastically complimenting her observational skills or if he should act as if being a toon was news to him too. After a beat, seeing her incredulous and slightly pathetic expression, he decided on neither. She was young, and after this mess she was probably fired too.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer." Yakko said, deadpan. "Or better yet, just draw one yourself." And with that, the oldest Warner turned and promptly left the building.

The moment his feet touched the lot's asphalt, Yakko felt himself sprinting. He wasn't thinking, only vaguely aware of where his legs were taking him, until he found himself in front of the water tower. It had always been their home, and a part of him had wanted to believe that his siblings would be there waiting for him; that they had escaped unscathed. But they weren't there. The water tower was locked and chained as always.

Then they really had been taken.

Fingering the keys he had taken from Plotz, Yakko climbed up the water tower and began searching around for the large, titanium lock. It was hidden amongst the thick chains, but it was hard to miss nonetheless; the thing was about the size of his head!

Finding the only key big enough for the monstrous lock, Yakko unlocked and undid the chains, letting them slide down to the asphalt below, uncaring of who or what they landed on.

Struggling against the rusted hinges of the door, clenching his teeth against the loud creak it made right into his ears, Yakko pulled the logo open and stepped inside.

Everything was just as he had left it this morning, save one thing; it was quiet.

Yakko ambled into the darkness, stepping on something hard which forced him to pull his foot back with a yelp. He looked down at the offending object, only to discover it was a small train set. Oh, _that_ train set. Wakko had been so excited when Yakko had brought it home for him one holiday season. And Dot had been so jealous because Wakko looked so much happier with his train set than she was with her tea set, she had insisted that Wakko share. Arguments had ensured, but it had all ended when Dot finally just gave in and started crying. Wakko, in a moment of gallantness, had offered his train set to his little sister so she wouldn't cry anymore. Yakko had been so proud.

Drifting back from his thoughts, Yakko found himself sitting on their worn sofa, clutching the old little train toy to his chest. He had never been separated from his siblings like this and he didn't know what to do! He felt completely helpless! What had he been thinking, letting them out of his sight like that? Now they were being treated like rabid animals and it was all his fault!

Yakko flung the train across the room in a burst of rage. The little toy crashed against the wall and the fell to the floor with a sad thump. Yakko's expression softened and he leaned forward, his face in his hands, trying to clear his thoughts.

What was he doing? They weren't _dead_. They were just captured. He just had to go get them! Might as well consider it like picking them up from school or soccer practice. Of course, Yakko had never done anything like that either. The three of them had always been together, and not one of them had ever really left the lot since the start of Animaniacs.

This lot was all they really knew and what little more Yakko knew, he'd rather not remember.

Standing up firm and nodding in his resolve, Yakko marched back outside. He marched across the lot, right to the gates. The guard at the booth was asleep. So much for Plotz's amazing new security.

Alright, now all he had to do was step outside into the world. He couldn't do this. For crying out loud, they had acted this sort of thing so many times! But he'd always had his siblings with him. Even if he was their guardian, Yakko still felt so much stronger with his sibs beside him. With his sibs, he was untouchable.

He could do this… he could do this! He was doing it! One foot forward… about to touch the asphalt… he was taking a step… his knees were going weak… he was sinking to the floor… he was on his knees… he couldn't do this! He was a lone toon, in a world of human beings who didn't know he even existed and would probably have him put down if they found him, and he couldn't bring himself to leave the lot!

Pathetic.

"Coward." Yakko muttered to himself under his breath. There was no time for this! Wakko and Dot needed him! But his legs had reduced themselves to jelly, quite literally. He couldn't bring himself to stand, no matter how hard he tried. It was over, all over…

A sudden kick to his rear solidified his legs in surprise and brought Yakko to his feet. Rubbing his sore rump, Yakko whirled around the find his attacker, thinking the security guard had woken up.

No, it was a girl. Only about a head taller than him, her hair a mess of sinewy frizz running over her shoulders and face. What he could make out of her expression through the mass of hair seemed none too pleased. Plain form-fitting t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans, one hand to her hips while the other gripped the worn backpack strap over her shoulder; she wasn't much to look at. But she did seem familiar. Yakko blinked up at her, wondering if she had really intended to kick him or if she was just in a foul mood and had just kicked whatever was sitting in her way.

"You inconsiderate son of a… whatever you are!" the girl hissed, leaning towards him in accusation, some of her hair blowing back with the movement, giving Yakko a better look at her face. Wait, wasn't she…?

"You?" Yakko said, as it dawned on him. It was that plain little secretary from before! Wow, what a difference a hair tie and a skimpy outfit made. She wasn't exactly the kind of girl who'd have caught Yakko's eye normally. The realization only made Yakko feel worse for shooing his siblings out of the office. "What's your problem?"

"I could ask you the same thing!" the girl shot back, crossing her arms and tipping her chin up haughtily. "Thanks to that little stunt you pulled back there, I just lost my job!"

"Look lady, if you were lousy at your job, that's hardly my fault." Yakko said, crossing his arms and imitating her posture. He wondered if she'd notice.

She noticed alright, and immediately shifted her weight to her opposite foot, throwing her arms down at her sides furiously. "Lousy?! No one on this lot works as hard as I do!"

"Did." Yakko corrected, smirking. "Works as hard as you _did_. You don't work here anymore."

"What?! Oh, you little—!"

"Little? Me? Hey, I'm only thirteen." Yakko said reasonably, stretching himself to his full height. "I figure I'm a decent height for my age. What's your excuse?"

"I'm not small!" the girl protested, livid. "I'm petit!"

"Hey, whatever you say." Yakko said reasonably, opening his hands in a display of surrender. "Incidentally," he leaned in, as if passing on a secret, "you do know that petit is just French for small, right?"

"What? ARG!" The girl made to shove Yakko away, but Yakko stepped aside, causing her to miss and almost lose balance. "You infuriating, inconsiderate, toon! I hate cartoons! You're all a bunch of nasty, stupidity glorifying, little—!"

"Look, I'd love to stay and chat about the whole 'little' thing again," Yakko said dismissively, walking off the lot as he spoke, "but I have to go rescue my sibs. So if you don't mind? Maybe we can finish this another time."

And, perhaps mostly out of desire to distance himself from the angry 'petit' person, Yakko walked right out of the studio gates without hesitation and into the real world.

Letting out an exasperated breath, the girl watched him go. It wasn't worth chasing him. It wouldn't get her job back. And he was only trying to protect his siblings, right? So, clenching her teeth against her rising ire, the girl pulled out her cell phone. He'd never see it coming.

Outside the lot, meanwhile, Yakko was had run into a snag in his plan. He had intended to just find the address to the Animal Control offices and just waltz in demanding his siblings. But now that he was actually out in the open, he realized the error of his rushed actions. He was still a cartoon character, something which most people were not used to seeing outside their television sets or computer screens.

The traffic in the street before him roared by without the slightest hint of slowing for pedestrians. Alright, so crossing the street was out of the question. It seemed he wasn't out in a very busy hour either, because not too many people seemed to be walking around the area. "Lucky me." Yakko muttered.

An elderly couple was coming down the sidewalk, approaching him. Thinking quickly, Yakko struck a pose and stayed unnaturally still. He was in front of the Warner Movie lot; maybe they'd think he was just a cardboard display. The couple walked by, not even paying Yakko a glance.

"Phew…" Yakko breathed in relief. But he couldn't stand around here posing forever. But he couldn't just walk to his destination in the open like this. If he was discovered, well, who knew what people would do? Just considering what Plotz had done, and Plotz already _knew_ him, how would a person stumbling across him for the first time react? Save that screechy little ex-secretary, of course.

Yakko struck up his pose again as a group of teenagers passed by. This wasn't good. More people were starting to come out into the street. It seemed it had been lunch hour and most people had just been inside restaurants. This was bad, with so many people around, someone was bound to notice him!

But just as Yakko began to formulate a brilliant cartoon scheme in his brilliant cartoon head, a van drove by, its side door wide open, and pulled him inside. Before Yakko could make sense of what had just happed, a black bag was thrown over him, and he found himself in darkness.

In the darkness, Yakko had just enough time to sort out a few thoughts. The day had been a very eventful one and he had already learned so many things. One; never let his siblings out of his sight, even for an instant. Two; secretaries were a nasty breed and that he should avoid them at all costs, regardless of how attractive they initially seem. Three; when posing as a cardboard cut-out of yourself, make sure to stay alert incase a van drives by and decides to kidnap you.

Making a mental note of all his wonderful new morals, and already hatching up a catchy tune to put these new lessons to later, Yakko felt the van come to an abrupt stop.

He could hear the van door sliding open and soon felt a pair of hands hoist him up. Whoever was carrying him, he wished it was a beautiful fan of his and not another anti-cartoon weirdo out to get him. It'd be nice if one good thing happened to him today.

Of course, Yakko should have kept the age old refrain in mind; be careful what you wish for.

Yakko was unceremoniously shaken out of the bag and dumped onto thin carpeting. Catching himself, Yakko was on his feet immediately. He looked around at his surroundings. He was inside the van, which was parked inside a dark alley. Huh, so far nothing _too_ creepy or stalker-like, right?

"Omigash!" came a piercing squeal from his left. Yakko reflexively shut his eyes at the sound as he drew back. "It's really him! No way!"

"Like, I told you our mystery tipster wasn't messing with us!" said another, sickeningly perky voice.

"Can we hurry this up?" said a lower, plumper sounding voice from the driver's seat. "My mom wants the car back before dinner."

Yakko tried to open his eyes to get a good look at his abductors, but the world spun dizzily before his eyes. He must've gotten more shaken up than he realized.

"Will you relax?" came a horribly acted accent from Yakko's right. "Bloody hell, we find _the_ Yakko Warner, and all you can do is worry about missing a meal."

"That's not what I meant!" protested the pudgy voice.

"Can we just stop fighting for a sec, for Yakko's sake?" came a more serene voice from across Yakko.

Yakko blinked, trying to focus his vision and make out the moving talking blurs around him. Hmm, that was funny; he seemed to be lying on his back. When had he fallen down?

"Oh, yeah, you always have to be the mature one."

"I'm just trying to stay focused on the mission!"

"Guys, dinner!"

"You think that just because you were right on this one…"

The voices all began to speak more loudly and more rapidly, all at once. Yakko clamped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. This had to be a nightmare, a terrible Kafkaesque nightmare! Any moment now he'd wake up back in his tower with nothing but the soft sounds of his siblings' snores in the air.

"That's enough!" came a chilling voice from seemingly everywhere at once. The other—was it four or five voices?—quieted. "Can't you see you're disorienting him? Give him some room!"

Yakko could hear the van door slide open and, on cue, his abductors exiting into the alley.

Yakko waited a minute, and another. Then, coming to terms with the fact that this was in fact not a dream and that he wouldn't be waking up any time soon, Yakko sat up and warily opened his eyes.

Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs in his mind, Yakko turned to look out at his kidnappers.

Six figures stood in the alley, four female and two male, their backs to him. They were odd looking, to say the least, but Yakko couldn't quite describe why. For one, he wouldn't know where to begin.

"Okaaaaay." He said, figuring these people already knew who he was and that it was best to get this over with quickly. "So, who are you, exactly?"

A synchronized single hand clap from the six figures. Yakko suddenly had a really bad feeling about this.

"Plot!" said the first figure, spinning around to face him.

"Stuff." said the second, turning to face him as well.

"Facts…" said the third, turning on cue too.

"Style!" said the fourth as she turned.

"Obsession." said the fifth, keeping her back turned.

"Pictures." said the sixth, whirling around with his arms crossed.

"You're not going to sing, are you?" Yakko said with a nervous smile.

"We weren't going to." said one girl, smiling to the boy beside her. "But if you'd prefer…"

"No-no-no-no-no!" Yakko nearly shouted, waving negatively in desperation. But it was too late; the six strangers were already keeping time. Yakko palmed his own face. "Me and my big mouth."

"Plot!"

"Stuff."

"Facts…"

"Style!"

"Obsession."

"Pictures."

One of the males in the group mimed his fist as a microphone and held it to his face as he announced, "And now the six fan stereotypes of Animaniacs Fandom in their rendition of _The Fan Attack Tango_."

"Plot!"

"Stuff."

"Facts…"

"Style!"

"Obsession."

"Pictures."

The girl at the edge of the line bobbed towards Yakko, who winced as she reached behind him, and pulled out a little boombox. Dusting it off, she ran back into her spot in line and placed it beside her, pressing play. An eerie tune began to blare out and the six fan stereotypes each struck a pose as they reiterated their cryptic catchphrase.

Then, catching the beat, they all danced in unison as they sang.  
"_We've all been waiting  
We've all been waiting  
Us fans were left to rot and stew  
We've all been planning  
We've all been scheming_"

The second to last fan in the line, dressed in an oddly familiar red dress and with her complexion considerably paler than those around her, sang in that chilling voice from earlier.  
"_When will our show be called for renew?!"_

Yakko sat back, leaning back against the doorframe. This looked like it was going to take a while. He may as well make himself comfortable.

"Plot!"

"Stuff."

"Facts…"

"Style!"

"Obsession."

"Pictures."

The first girl stepped forward. She was a slightly chubby, if not bright-eyed girl, wearing a simple pair of sweat pants and a tank top. She brushed back her stringy brown hair and adjusted her glasses as she prepared to speak.

"You ever have a story you really love, but which left you hanging?  
Like, maybe the author left a few loose ends.  
Or maybe there were a few love interest possibilities left unexplored.  
You know, the kind of thing that leaves you wondering.  
Soon that wondering leads to daydreaming and thinking up stories of your own.  
So one night, you're tired after work or school, and you decide to just sit down a jot down a few of your ideas to help you unwind.  
And before you know it, you've written a whole chapter.  
And it's good stuff.  
That's what happened to me. Sure, a few of my characters seem a bit OOC.  
And sure, maybe I've got a couple Sues running amok.  
Hey, I may even have written in something disgusting and perverse which completely destroys the concept of the classic story and the beauty of the original characters.  
Still I can't help but keep going, because in time they'll all see the art I've created.  
It gets to the point that some reviewers are screaming at me, Stop! Stop!  
They even threaten; You twist that plot one more time…!  
But I do. Because, after all, I am who I am…  
...a Fanfic Author."

She turned and swiftly waddled back into the line as the fans all repeated the chorus in unison.  
"_We've all been waiting  
We've all been waiting  
Us fans were left to rot and stew  
We've all been planning  
We've all been scheming  
When will our show be called for renew?!_"

The next fan in line came forward, a very thin and slightly gangly young man. His shirt and slacks were nothing out of the ordinary, if not a bit faded and worn. He smirked fondly as he prepared to speak.

"I remember the first time I walked into a toy store with some money to burn  
And there they were, those gorgeous trinkets of every kind, all having to do with my favorite show!  
There were CDs, and videos, and plush toys, and puzzles, and pens, and key chains, and dolls, and action figures, and t-shirts, and video games, and sun glasses, and coloring books, and plates, and cups, and lunchboxes, and kids' shoes, and board games, everything! Anything you could ever imagine with my favorite trio's faces plastered on it.  
It all started off with just a shirt with a funny picture on it.  
But before I knew it, I had to have more and MORE.  
I couldn't stop myself! So much stuff!  
I kept going in, almost everyday, checking to see if they had anything new!  
Soon I was scouring the internet to make sure no one owned anything of theirs that I didn't! Until one day, it got physical.  
The plushies that they usually sold in a bundle pack were now being sold separately.  
Single packs? Single packs my butt!  
So I smacked the cashier and demanded to put in a complaint with the manager.  
It was then that I realized I was…  
…a Merchandise Junkie."

The boy turned and stalked back into the line, as they led into the next verse.  
"_We've all been waiting  
We've all been waiting  
They cut our best show in its prime  
We were abandoned  
Left for dead fandom  
But still we all waited for a sign!_"

The next fan came forward, a freckle faced young girl with red hair tied back in a braid, wearing a grey and navy blue school uniform. She smiled nodded her head, her hands balling up into fists in front of her, as if preparing for a fight.

"Now, I'm sitting on the bus.  
When suddenly some little snot nosed brat starts singing the show's theme song.  
But he's singing it all wrong! I get out of my seat and correct the brat, giving him the correct lyrics.  
The next day, other people start asking me how the song goes.  
And I tell them.  
Soon when anyone had a question about the show, I was the person to go to. It was crazy.  
I stopped just watching the show and started studying it.  
I had to make sure I always knew the answer, that I knew everything, all the facts!  
Did you know that my personal favorite episode has nine continuity mistakes?  
Of course you didn't know. But I knew, because I'm…  
…a Trivia Wiz."

She bowed and skipped back to her place arrogantly, as if having just finished a long lecture. Again, the fans all sang.  
"_We've all been planning  
We've all been scheming  
When will our show be called for renew?!_"

The next fan came forward, gigantic over-exaggerated smile on her face. But her expression didn't draw attention away from her dyed baby blue hair, up in matching pigtails. Even more off-putting, she seemed to be wearing a little pink skirt reminiscent of Dot's and a black long-sleeve shirt. The girl winked at Yakko and blew a kiss as she begun her monologue.

"Irashaimase super kawaii!  
How's my Japanese? Pretty good, huh?  
I picked it up from all the cons I go to.  
You see, one year for Halloween, I decided to dress up as my favorite character.  
I made my own costume, and it came out so great! I couldn't wait a year to wear it again!  
It was my favorite style!  
So I started going to cons and meeting up with other people who like dressing up and acting like their favorite characters.  
I do great impersonations of my favorite trio, by the way.  
I always win all the skits.  
Sometimes I even do skits in Japanese. It's trendy!  
Yokuse! Kon-ban no ususumi…  
…a Cosplayer."

Yakko held his stomach, feeling suddenly nauseous. "Look lady," he said, trying his best not to throw up over her home made costume of his little sister, "I speak Japanese, and that just now was not Japanese."

He thought she might've been offended at the comment. Heck, he might've even accepted her bursting into tears and running away in dramatic slow-motion. But no, the cosplayer just stared at him blankly for a moment before breaking into a fit of giggles.

"Oh Yakko, you're so funny!" she wiped away an invisible tear. "We've missed your show so much!"

She twirled back to her spot in the line as the other fans all chanted softly, their heads hung, as if mourning the show. It might've been flattering, if it wasn't so disturbing.  
"_We've all been waiting…  
We've all been waiting…_"

The next fan stepped forward, the creepy-voiced one. Her long, black, greasy hair fell in thin strands around her face, contrasting shockingly against her bleach white skin. From a glance, would one assume she never left her computer screen. The red dress she was wearing had bothered Yakko since he laid eyes on it. He was certain he had seen it before, but he couldn't be sure _where_.

And then suddenly, it hit him. Just as the fan began to make her speech, Yakko remembered exactly where he had seen that dress before! It was a replica of the not often seen dress worn by Minerva Mink!

"I am the fan of fans The crème de la crème de la crème.  
Whatever that means.  
I write all the best fanfiction.  
In character, Mary-Sue free, and with a plot that'll have you on the edge of your seat.  
I have all the show's merchandise ever made.  
Oh yeah, recalled over-seas vintage stuff too.  
Not a soul knows more trivia than me.  
I corrected the voice actors at a panel once. They don't know every episode down to the production code number like me.  
Cosplaying? Please. Not only do I own all the official costumes for every character, not only have I made my own, but it's all I wear. Not a day goes by that you'll see me in anything that a character on the show hasn't worn."

That explained the dress. Of course, it didn't explain why no one had gotten this poor girl some professional help!

"And FanArt?  
Sure, I have my own site for my art, as well as several accounts on other art sites. But more so, my art and comics are so good, they're what I do for a living. That's right; my fanart is my sole source of income. And I make a killing. I'm just that good.  
But it doesn't end there. Oh no. I'm President of every official fanclub and several unofficial ones. I've started petition after petition to get the show brought back.  
The DVDs? How do you think we got them? I helped form an elite team and we bombarded the Executive Producers with spam fan mail until they caved and released the DVDs!  
We called it Operation Spread Eagle.  
Worked like a charm.  
You see, for me it isn't just an obsession. It's a life choice. So what do you call a fan of such high caliber? One far too superior to the ordinary fan to be referred to by the common term?  
Why, I am no other than…  
…an Animaniac."

Instead of rejoining the group, the Animaniac proceeded to show a pathetically astounding display of her dance moved she had copied from the show. As she imitated the dances from several of the Warners' past cartoons, the rest of the fans posed mirrored her moves, awed by her superior nerdiness.

"_We've all been waiting_!" sang the Animaniac furiously.

"_We've all been waiting_" echoed the other fans.

"_Did they think we'd just forget?_" she asked angrily.

"_They think we'd just forget?_"

"_They didn't give a damn_" she shouted.

"_Didn't give a damn_"

"_About us loyal fans_" she raged.

"_'bout us loyal fans_"

"_Hey there creators, now heed our threat!_" she finished evilly as she slid backwards into the line again.

The final fan stepped forward, biting his bottom lip and fidgeting nervously. His mouth twitched into a smile, revealing a set of braces. He obviously did not like going up after the Animaniac, but Yakko had a feeling no one was going to launch any complaints against her any time soon.

The boy adjusted his hat over his long hair, then tucked his hands into the pockets of his trench coat to settle himself as he spoke.

"Those few gifted with the ability to express feelings with paper and pencil.  
And sometimes pen.  
And on occasion Photoshop.  
I am of this kind.  
I litter the internet with my sketches and comics.  
Some are pretty cute.  
Some are even funny.  
But most of them are poorly defined scribbles at best.  
Things that shouldn't have left the margin of my notebook are forced to come up in the search results of Google Images.  
Annoying, but harmless. Until I get into a different mood.  
I draw something a little more… crude.  
Never mind who or what the characters are.  
Never mind their age or orientation.  
If you have a different vision, then call it artistic differences and leave me alone.  
So what if I don't use the mature content filter for my pictures? Grow up!  
I have to express myself as…  
…a Fan Artist."

Before the Fan Artist had a chance to rejoin his fellow fans, they all stepped forward and proceeded to sing passionately at Yakko, who almost shrunk back, until he remembered he wasn't the one they were mad at.

"_Those dirty pro… du… cers…  
Those dirty pro… du… cers…_"

"_We've all been waiting_" sang the first three.

"_We've all been waiting_" responded the other three.

"_We've all been waiting_"

"_We've all been waiting_"

"_Us fans were left to rot and stew_" said the first group as the second group sang under them with;

"_They cut our best show in its prime_"

"_We've all been planning_"

"_We were abandoned_"

"_We've all been scheming_"

"_Left for dead fandom_"

Then both groups of three united back into one as they sang in jarring, discordant voices.  
"_When will our show be called for renew?!_"

Then the fans all fell back in line, turning their backs on Yakko again, overlapping each other's last phrases

"You twist that plot one more time!" The Fanfic Author.

"Single pack my butt!" The Merchandise Junkie.

"Nine mistakes!" The Trivia Wiz.

"Irashaimase super kawaii!" The Cosplayer.

"Operation Spread Eagle" The Animaniac.

"Artistic differences." The Fan Artist.

They all struck their final dramatic, and comically absurd, poses as the final chords of the song wafted out of the boombox.

"Plot!"

"Stuff."

"Facts…"

"Style!"

"Obsession."

"Pictures."

"Well, it's been ehhhhhh… educational! But I better get going." Yakko said, hopping out of the van and preparing to make a break for it, for the sake of his sanity.

"Oh no you don't!" said the Trivia Wiz, securing Yakko in an inescapable fanglomp. "You can't break into the Animal Control offices alone!"

Yakko did a double take, before settling in the girl's grasp. "Okay, I admit I'm intrigued." He grimaced. "And I'm not just saying that so you'll let me breathe again."

* * *

Dun dun DUUUUN! That's right Yakko, they KNEW where you were going. (Twilight Zone theme plays)

Thank you everyone for all your wonderful reviews!

And yes, I am the one co-writing the "Disney SpoofaMania" with YakkingYakko. He is hilarious and I recommend you read his fics as soon as possible.

(cough)especially the Disney spoofs (cough)


	5. ChicWakko: All Yak Cares About Is Love

Yes, I updated. Sorry this took so long. I've been... busy. But that's no excuse! Especially considering these chapters aren't all that long.

Ah, well. Here ya go! I bet most of you already guessed which song Yakko would be singing...

* * *

**Chic Wakko:  
All Yak Cares About Is Love**

Yakko sat, one hand in his lap while the other held a cookie he currently munched on, sitting cross-legged on the van floor. He didn't know if it was exactly legal to have so many people sitting on the floor with no seatbelts. He didn't know why the back of the van seemed to have no seats at all and just dissolved seamlessly into the trunk space. Heck, he didn't even know why his abductors had insisted on stuffing him with various baked sweets. But Yakko couldn't complain; they were friendly enough, if not slightly creepy. Hey, one of them had even brought special lactose-free milk for him, remembering his lactose intolerance. Now how could one stay upset after that?

"So!" Yakko said in an attempt to break the tension. Really, no matter how hospitable the people around him were, it was terribly unnerving to have them all staring at him unblinkingly in silence. Especially since the driver herself kept stealing glances at him, more than once he had been forced to remind her to watch the road. "You say you all wrote and rehearsed that song and dance to… bring back the show?"

"That's right!" said the Trivia Wiz enthusiastically. "We were planning to perform it at Comic Con…. And then post it on youtube!"

"If it got popular enough, we were even thinking about performing it for the studio executives themselves." added the Merchandise Junkie, flashing the Animaniacs logo on his boom-box proudly.

"I wrote the lyrics." chimed in the Fanfic Author, the car swerving as she turned to face Yakko.

"Watch the road!" Yakko yelped, surprised to find the other fans echoing him. The Fanfic Author turned back to her driving, face flushed in embarrassment behind her glasses.

"At any rate, those plans are all superfluous now." said the Animaniac, the chilling effect of her voice as spine-tingling as ever. It was relieving to know she was a fan. Yakko loathed the idea of being someone she _didn't_ like. "Our main priority now is to retrieve your siblings."

"Yeeeeaaaaah. About that," Yakko droned suspiciously. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the help. It just seemed all too convenient, "how do you know what happened to my sibs? How did you even find me?"

The fans exchanged glances. There was definitely something going on here that no one was saying.

"It's only logical when you think about it." The Fan Artist said, twirling a strand of hair under his hat, in thought. "Everyone who's ever seen your show knows that you live in the Warner Movie lot in Burbank. And you were right in front of the studio…"

"Yeah, but unless you go around for a joy ride in a vehicle perfectly decked out for kidnapping with an organized team of obsessed fans—no offense—on a daily basis, I hardly find it likely that you'd just stumble upon me like this." Yakko countered, arms firmly crossed, refusing to take anymore of the brightly frosted sweets the Cosplayer kept offering him. "And even if you did, it still doesn't explain how you knew about my sibs' situation!"

The Fan Artist's lip twitched, as if there was something he wanted to say, but he covered it with a cough. Yakko raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, Yakko-sama!" The Cosplayer cried, taking his half-empties—or was it half full?—glass of milk and refilling it to the brim. "Please don't be angry with us. We only want to help Wakko-san and Dot-chan."

Yakko didn't know whether to thank her for her sincere concern or smack her for throwing in so many Japanese titles that she probably didn't know the real meaning of.

He took the glass, opting to just mutter an awkward thanks, and stared down at the creamy white liquid. Thinking about how milk usually made him sick was beginning to make him nauseous, even if this milk was lactose free. Setting the milk aside, he was surprised when the Animaniac spoke up suddenly.

"We received a phone call from an anonymous tipster." she said simply. The other fans fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Ehhhh, that raises more questions than it answers." Yakko said, fighting to hold down his nausea as the van hit a bump in the road and jumped.

"Look, we're part of a secret order." The Animaniac explained darkly. "We are the elite of the Animaniacs fandom, the most devoted. We've become pretty well known through our website. You should join our message board." She handed him a small scrap of paper, which she pulled out of her sleeve, and handed it to him. Yakko looked down at the small print. It was a very long and very complicated web address.

"Wait." Yakko objected, crumpling up the scrap of paper and dropping it into his milk glass inconspicuously. "If you're so well known, how are you a secret order?"

The Animaniac cast him an icy glare.

"I retract my question!" Yakko said with a large grin. These kids were obviously crazy.

"Anyway, someone on our message boards must've seen what happened to your sibs, because they had our group's phone number." said the Fan Artist, picking up where the Animaniac had left off. "They called us up and told us everything, except who they were."

"We thought it was all just a stupid prank at first." said the Fanfic Author, remembering to keep focused on her driving this time. "I mean, who'd believe THE Yakko Warner would be wandering around in front of the studio lot, in dire need of our help?"

Yakko couldn't help but frown at this. He was pretty sure he wasn't in _dire_ need, and he was absolutely certain hadn't been _wandering_ anywhere.

"But in the end I decided we should go anyway, just incase our prankster was there waiting for us." said the Animaniac. Yakko couldn't shake the feeling that it was the supposed prankster they had originally intended to abduct. "Fandom is no joking matter." She added, confirming Yakko's suspicions.

"So you have no idea who this mystery tipster is?" Yakko asked, once more, just to be sure. It didn't sit well with him. Who could've made such a call? And what were their intentions for doing so? Plotz wouldn't have done it; he was the one who put them in this mess in the first place.

"No." The Trivia Wiz assured him, sighing. "We managed to get the number, but it's a mobile line, so we can't track it."

Yakko nodded. Well then, no time to stew on the matter. His siblings came first. He could worry about their mystery accomplice later.

"I take it you've formulated some kind of plan, then?"

"Oh, have we ever!" exclaimed the Cosplayer, clapping her hands and giggling eagerly.

Yakko sat back comfortably, waiting to hear the run-down on their plan.

The fans smiled back at him silently.

"…so?" Yakko asked.

"…so, what?" The Cosplayer replied blankly.

"The plan." Yakko said, trying to be patient. Luckily, years taking care of two younger siblings had given him plenty of practice.

"What about the plan?" The Cosplayer said, looking crestfallen. "Don't you like it?"

Yakko groaned. Yes, these people were definitely wrong in the head. And not in the funny, adorable way that he and his siblings were.

"I don't know if I like it. I don't even know what it is yet!"

"Oh, right." The Cosplayer nodded, smiling.

Yakko waited.

She didn't explain.

What was _wrong_ with these people?!

"Alright, alright!" The Animaniac said, scooting up towards Yakko, who couldn't help his skin from crawling. "I'll explain. The four of us," she signaled to the other girls and herself, "will help you stage a distraction, while they," she pointed to the two boys, "scope out the place. They'll find where Wakko and Dot are being kept, acquire any keys or other security by-passes we need, and then report back to us."

Yakko nodded. It was a decent enough plan. "What do you have in mind for the distraction?"

"Actually…" the Trivia Wiz cut in, twiddling her thumbs anxiously, "that's where we were hoping you'd come in. You're _the_ Yakko Warner, after all."

Yakko thought for a moment to consider the fans' plan before a rakish grin spread across his face. "A big distraction involving me and four young ladies?" He snickered, "I'm sure I can think of _something_."

xXx

All was quiet in the humble, dark-windowed building know as the "Burbank Animal Control & Pest Wildlife Removal Center". At the front desk sat two well-trained, animal control specialists. One, a middle-aged woman with strong forearms, was a credited biologist who had never really pursued her career as far as she could've. The other, a younger man who had grown up in the country as a child and had years of experience dealing with wild animals. They sat in their swivel seats, wishing their office hours would be over already. They so wanted to go in the back and get a good look at the strange creatures that had been caught today before they were transferred to a lab for further study. But at the moment their superior had them stuck up here, bored out of their skulls. Little did they know that just outside, in the small parking lot in front of their building, off to the side where a few bushes had been planted to brighten up the place, lurked six plotting fans carrying a struggling black bag, ready to strike.

The fans dumped the contents of the black bag onto the floor. Yakko came tumbling out unceremoniously, barely managing to catch himself on the bush before his head hit the hard asphalt.

"Hey, watch it!" He snapped in a hushed voice.

"Sorry." whispered back the Cosplayer, giggling. Why was she always giggling?

"Alright, so everyone's clear on the plan?" asked the Animaniac.

"Right!" replied the fans in unison.

"Uh huh." said Yakko in slight annoyance, rubbing the soreness out of his head. "You have the outfits?"

"Right here!" said the Cosplayer with an over-animated smile.

Inside, the two animal control specialists busied themselves; one reading a magazine and the other flicking rubber bands into the wall, completely oblivious to the flashy disaster about to befall them.

The little bells above the door chimed as the four fangirls entered, alerting the specialists and causing them to sit up.

"Hello, welcome to the Burbank Animal Control and Pest Wildlife Removal Center. How may I help…" the male specialist trailed off as he took in the sight of the customers. Four young ladies, dressed in nearly identical matching show girl costumes and tights. The only real differences in wardrobe between them where the animal-ear headbands they wore; one a kitten, one a bunny, one a puppy, and one a fox. "…you?" he finished lamely.

The Merchandise Junkie and the Fan Artist entered behind them, dressed in their normal attire, not at all noticeable by comparison. Sneakily, the Merchandise Junkie placed his boom-box on a chair next to the far wall and pressed play.

As a subtle little tune began to warble out of the boom box, they fangirls moved their hips to and fro slowly, enticingly.

"Excuse me, can we help you or not?" said the female specialist, strict and unamused.

The fangirls began to chant breathlessly.  
"_We want Yakko  
Give us Yakko  
Y. A. double K. O.  
We're all his…"_

Young and hormonal, the male specialist could not pull his attention off of the fact that four, decently attractive young girls were scantily clad in front of him. Contrarily, the older female specialist was so perturbed by the sight of four, decently attractive young girls were dressed like trollops in front of her, that she couldn't form the words to rebuke them.

The fangirls continued, pointing to their audience on cue.  
"_He's our kind of a Joe  
And ooh what luck  
Cause here he is…_"

The fangirls turned towards the door, letting their outstretched hands slide over to the door and point, awaiting their star's entrance. With a flourish of trumpets, in came Yakko, dressed in a snazzy, white striped, Zoot suite and a matching, wide-brimmed hat.

The fangirls proceeded to fawn over Yakko, as the male specialist looked on in a mixture of shock and envy. Yakko kept himself aloof, strutting around as he began to sing.  
"_I don't care about expensive things  
Don't wear a coat,_" he removed his coat and threw it to the specialists. It landed squarely on the woman's head, who yanked it off angrily.

"_Don't care for rings  
They don't mean a thing  
All I care about is love_"

The fangirls all posed behind Yakko, gesturing to him as they sang together.  
"_That's what he's here for_"

Yakko reached into his pants and withdrew a large banana cream pie, regarding it with disgust.  
"_I don't care for pulling visual gags  
Throwing pies, to get laughs_"

Yakko threw pies at the fangirls, which giggled and squealed in delight as they were covered in pie filling.  
"_Don't mean a thing_"

Yakko walked up to the Fanfic Author and ran a finger along her thigh, removing the cream and giving it a taste, before singing:  
"_All I care about is love_"

The Fanfic Author fainted, overwhelmed by her excitement. The other fangirls hurried to catch her, still smiling, as they echoed:  
"_All Yak cares about is love!_"

The female specialist scoffed. She didn't know what was going on, or what that strange creature the girls were fawning over was, but she'd had enough of this nonsense. She stormed over to the wall, where the red emergency phone hung, and picked up the receiver. But just as she was about to put the receiver to her ear and start dialing, out of the phone popped out Yakko, who tipped his hat to her as he sang.  
"_Give me two  
Eyes of dew  
Softly saying,_"

"I want you…" said the fangirls, breathless and watery-eyed, surrounding the now petrified specialist woman.

Yakko took the woman by the hand, pulling her safely out of the circle of fangirls, and brought her to the opposite side of the room from the emergency phone, as he sang to her.  
"_Let me see her standin' there and  
Honest mister, I'm a millionaire_" he struck a dramatic pose, startling the woman, who jumped where she stood. Yakko took advantage of the situation, slipping his hand into her pocket and withdrawing the ring of keys there.

"_I don't care for any fine attire  
The Marx Brothers might admire  
No, no, not me_"  
With a spin and a kick, pretending to shake the Merchandise Junkie's hand, Yakko inconspicuously passed off the keys to the Merchandise Junkie, who nodded to the Fan Artist.

"_All I care about is love..._"

As the male specialist watched on in rapt fascination, and the female specialist stared in flabbergasted outrage, the fanboys silently slipped behind the counter, tip-toeing into the back room.

The back room was well-lit and smelled of a nauseating combination of disinfectant and unwashed animal fur.

"Spew…" said the Fan Artist, pulling his shirt up over his mouth and nose to filter out the smell.

"Shh!" The Merchandise Junkie shushed him, a finger over his lips. They couldn't risk being caught; it wasn't just the Warners depending on them now. If they got caught, now they were liable to be charged with trespassing themselves!

They cautiously made their way through the hall, walls lined with cages. Most were empty, but every now and then there was a cage containing an opossum or a stray cat.

The Fan Artist stopped in front of one of the cages, the feral cat hissed and attempted to claw at him through the bars. The Fan Artist kept his distance, never having been the brave type, and pointed at the small label at the top of the cage.

The Merchandise Junkie walked over to read the label, and to make sure the Fan Artist didn't faint from nerves. "Feral Cat: Transfer to local pound for termination." he mouthed silently. The label scared him, and not in the way that the cat was scaring the Fan Artist. No, the label worried him because this meant that caught animals did not stay in the control center for very long. Who knew what they planned to do, or had already done to the younger Warner siblings?

Grabbing the Fan Artist by the ear and pulling him along, the Merchandise Junkie ran down the rest of the hall.

They could hear still the girls singing from the next room.  
"_All Yak cares about is love_"

The female specialist had managed to make her way back behind the counter, but Yakko would not be deterred. He jumped up on the counter, sliding across the smooth surface on his belly, chin resting on his palm as he spoke suavely.

"Maybe you think I'm talking about physical love." Yakko got up on all fours, feigning offense. "Well, I'm not. Not just physical love. There's other kinds of love." He jabbed a finger at the specialists accusingly as he listed the supposed other kinds of love. "Like love of justice. Love of legal procedure. Love of lending a hand to someone who really needs you." He leaned back, squatting, with his arms crossed, expression ironic. "Love of not imprisoning two innocent kids without a proper trial. That's the kind of love I'm talkin' about."

Yakko turned and jumped off the counter. He turned back, a hand over the side of his mouth as if he was letting the specialists in on a secret. "But, hey, physical love's not so bad either." He then waltzed away from the specialists, regaining his group of swooning fangirls. "It may sound odd but…" he winked.  
"_All I care about is love_"

"_That's what I'm/he's here for_" sang Yakko with the fangirls as they fawned over him.

Yakko broke out of the fangirls' embrace and proceeded to strut around the room with a skip in his step, whistling. The fangirls followed, single file.

Meanwhile, the fanboys were still rushing through what was—apparently—a very long hallway. As they came to a particularly large cage, the Merchandise Junkie stopped. His stop was an abrupt one, however, causing the Fan Artist to slam into him.

"Ow…" whined the Fan Artist, rubbing his nose which had crashed into the back of the other's head.

"Shh!" corrected the Merchandise Junkie, signaling to the cage in front of them.

Inside the cage sat two very frightened little Warner siblings, huddled together. Dot's ears hung limp, as did Wakko's, their signature flower scrunchie and cap missing. Taking another look, the fanboys realized that the two Warners had been stripped bare, like common animals.

And Wakko had been muzzled.

Shaking his head in disgust, the Merchandise Junkie prepared to open the cage.

Hearing the jingle of keys, Wakko's head snapped up. He growled at the two unfamiliar faces in front of him, pushing Dot behind him for protection. The label at the top of their cage read in bold letters "Unidentified Species: Immediate transfer to Lab for further analysis." They'd gotten here not a moment too soon.

"Shh… Hey, it's okay." whispered the Merchandise Junkie, looking around to make sure they hadn't been discovered. "We're here to help." He opened the cage door and reached inside, only to get Dot's teeth clamped down on his hand.

The Merchandise Junkie pulled back his hand, putting the bitten side into his mouth, whimpering slightly.

The Fan Artist slammed the cage door shut in a panic, the cage clanging in response. The loud clang echoed through the hallway. Biting his lip and praying that no one heard that, the Fan Artist looked over at the Merchandise Junkie with an apologetic shrug.

The Merchandise Junkie fixed him a glare. Then, removing his stinging hand from his mouth, turned back to the Warners. "Please, believe us. We're trying to get you out of here."

"Yeah, we're with your brother, Yakko!" added the Fan Artist hurriedly. He had been almost certain he heard footsteps. "Just listen, that's him singing now!"

Though the sound was muffled by the walls and obscured by the echo, if one listened in then Yakko's unique voice could be heard singing.  
"_Show me long raven hair  
Flowin' down, 'bout to there  
When I see her  
Things get terse  
To break the tension, I say hello nurse_"

The fangirls lifted Yakko up, fanning their hands out like a stage for him, as Yakko removed his hat and twirled it on his finger, as he danced his final verse.  
"_I don't care if I look tough or femmy  
Or for winning my own Emmy  
No, no, not me_"

"Woo!" cried the fangirls as Yakko jumped down from their hands and landed with his arms in the air.

Yakko danced his finale as the fangirls got into formation behind him.  
"_All I care about is  
Helping you pretty ladies  
If your costumes start to itch  
Come pay me a visit  
I'll have 'em off in a pinch"_

Then, in amazingly synchronized movements despite the fact that they had never choreographed or rehearsed the dance, the fangirls and Yakko sang:  
"_All he/I cares/care about is love!_"

Yakko and the fangirls struck their final poses, just as the boom box struck its final chord. Then they all stood there, panting for breath.

Silence.

Then, a small beep was heard.

"Security." said the male specialist, having managed to dial the emergency phone when no one was looking.

* * *

Oh Yakko, you're lucky you're so little and cute. Otherwise you'd be put away for sexual harrassment a LONG time ago. 

**ForTheLoveOfSugar:** Please... please don't hurt me. (cowers)

**Madame Lady: **Yay! Glad you like it despite not knowing Chicago. And of course there will be a Wicked parody. (Actually, it's the third musical I have planned for the Warners.) Try and guess which song they'll each sing.

**acosta perez jose ramiro:** Thank you so much for your input on the secretary. She's a character I worry about, since she isn't typical of the kind that gets written with the Warners. Hopefully I won't dissapoint you!

**Yakking Yakko:** Ahh! YY! So sorry I haven't gotten back to you! Real life's a pain. Don't worry, I'm not dead. Thanks so much for the review, and excellent job with Wakko's Bday Bashed.

**dth1971:** Sorry the cameos got cut out. I hope you didn't completely hate the chapter...


	6. ChicWakko: When You Work For Plotzy

**And believe me, I'm still alive.  
I feel fantastical and I'm still alive.  
I'm writing fanfics and I'm still alive.**

**Alright, I am SO sorry. A lot has happened recently and I kinda just... forgot about this fic. But I've been reminded, and so I'm back! Feel free to pelt me with stones.**

**Ow! I didn't mean literally! Geez... ow...**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and I'd like to make a few recommendations for anyone stuck waiting for me to update. _DancesWithCorpses _has a brilliant comedy fic called "A Horrible World of Plot Holes and Spelling Errors." Don't be scared, she actually has excellent spelling and the plot holes are there for humor purposes.**

**If you're interested in something more serious, there's _KitchenSink's_ astonishingly amazing story "The Burbank Confession". If you're a history buff, you'll like this story. It has some very interesting allusions to real life events in history, and shows how terrifyingly possible it is for even modern society to descend into the madness of war, violence, and segregation. If you're not a fan of history, you'll probably still enjoy it for its excellent writing and suspenseful character-driven drama. **

**And of course there's always my personal favorite, _The Middle Warner Sibling's _"Family".**

**Now that I'm done plugging the Animaniacs Fandom greats and acting like I'm totally awesome by proxy, enjoy the next chapter!  
**

* * *

**ChicWakko:  
When You Work For Plotzy**

The escape was not as graceful as had been planned. While it should have been a simple matter of shuffling off while the Animal Control Center workers regained their sensibility, it ended up more like a mad stampede back to the van. The fangirls nearly trampled Yakko, before he remembered his toonspeed and took off like a black-white-red-and-khaki bullet and beat them all to the door.

Shoving each other into the van, and getting themselves wedged in the door in the process, the fangirls hurried; security in close pursuit. As soon as the van door was yanked shut, the guards were banging on it. Before she could talk herself out of it, the Fanfic Writer stuffed the key in the ignition and sped the car around the parking lot—resulting in a rather humorous sight as the security guards all chased the van in a circle—and then took off to the entrance of the Animal Control Center.

Sure enough, there stood the Fan Artist and the Merchandise Junkie, holding a struggling black bag and looking dumbfounded. Narrowly missing the curb, the van pulled up, the door sliding open with a loud metallic _whoosh_ as Yakko dramatically ordered, "Get in!", and then added aside to the Trivia Wiz, "I've always wanted to say that."

The fanboys jumped inside, and before they even had a chance to shut the door, the car took off at full-speed. Fittingly, a muffled voice from inside the black bag seemed to be humming the _Speed Racer_ theme.

Quickly weaving in and out of traffic, the Fanfic Author turned into the nearest freeway, hoping to put some space between them and the Animal Control Center. "Oh, my parents are going to kill me! Do you think they got the license plate?"

The other fans shrugged, uninterested in such trivial troubles, and surrounded Yakko as he took the struggling black sack into his hands. With some effort considering the van's current speed, the Animaniac shut the van door, looking out the windows to make sure no one was watching them. 'Cause, you know, that's _exactly_ what people driving on freeways do; peak into suspicious looking vans. Then, taking her seat back beside Yakko, the Animaniac jumped as she felt a peculiar vibration in her dress pocket. Discreetly, she moved to the back of the van to answer her vibrating cell phone with a hushed murmur.

Gingerly, Yakko pulled the bag open and slid it down from the two forms inside; Wakko and Dot, eyes shut tight and clinging to each other as if for dear life. Their clothes had been taken from them, and Wakko had been forced into a muzzle. But what concerned Yakko most was the suspicious bandage around Dot's right arm.

"Sibs!" Yakko nearly cried as he scooped them into his arms. Hearing his voice, he suddenly had two siblings bawling into his ears, loud enough to burst an eardrum. But Yakko could care less about his eardrums at the moment; he wasn't much of a drum player anyway.

"Yakkoooooo!" Dot cried, nearly strangling him with her grip around his throat. Where, when, and how she ever mastered the technique of nearly killing someone with her love, he'd never know.

"Mmf!" seemed to be all Wakko could get out, though he still managed to sound just as urgent.

Pulling back and placing his sibs on his lap, Yakko reached into his slacks and—thankful that he wasn't currently holding any baloney—took out the extra sets of clothing he always brought along. Being practically the sole caretaker of two wild children, Yakko had learned long ago how invaluable fresh changes of clothes were.

Setting the clothes aside for the moment, he gently slid Dot to the opposite side, and then turned Wakko around in his lap. His lip involuntarily curling into a snarl, Yakko ripped the leather strap holding the damned muzzle together clean off. Huh, who knew he was so strong when angry?

As soon as the hated contraption hit the floor, Wakko whirled around and grabbed Yakko's shoulders, babbling something that somewhat resembled speech, specifically something like, "I'msosorryYakkoit'sallmyfaultItriedtokeepDotsafebutIwasn'tstrongenoughandwhenthey triedtotakeherIbitoneofthemsotheyputthatthingonmeandI'msosorryI'llneverdoitagain!"

Covering Wakko's mouth, though warily; knowing all too well the reason why he'd received the muzzle in the first place, Yakko gave him an understanding nod, saying firmly though not harshly, "It's okay, Wakko. Whatever happened, it's not important now. All that matters is that the two of you are safe and we're all together. Understand?"

Wakko nodded and Yakko removed his hand, turning to pick up the spare sets of clothes at his side and handed them to his siblings.

Wakko pulled on his shirt and cap without a second thought. Dot, on the other hand, tugged at Yakko's arm, whispering, "I can't change in front of _boys_. I'm a lady!"

Sighing, but conceding her point when he realized the two fanboys were indeed staring, he picked up the discarded sack and draped it around her, concealing her from view as she slipped on her pretty little skirt and flower scrunchie.

Once his siblings were decent again, they stared up at him with eager faces, awaiting his further instructions. How could they be so…_normal_ after what had just happened? Well, normal as the Warner siblings got.

Running a tired hand over his head and ears, Yakko sighed, "I'm so sorry, sibs. This is all my fault. I should've never let you out of my sight. And I promise it'll never happen a—"

He was interrupted by Dot's little hand on his cheek as she said, predictably adorably, "It's okay, Yakko. Whatever happened, it's not important now. All that matters is that the three of are safe and we're all together. Understand?" She echoed his words, her black button eyes staring at him with that sincerity only she could muster on cue. It was always difficult to tell when she was speaking from the heart, or just putting on a show.

But Yakko knew her better than that and, taking her little hand in his as he pulled it away from his cheek, whispered, "Thanks, Dot."

With that, Yakko pulled his precocious little sister into his arms and held her to his chest, vowing to change for the better; that from then on he would never look at another girl in lust, and care only for his siblings. It would be a celibate life for him. Family was most important.

Filled with pure and noble thoughts, Yakko reached out to embrace Wakko as well and found his younger brother belching comically, the force of the blast inadvertently hiking up the Cosplayer's skirt. Yakko's eyes grew wide as he caught sight of the tittering girl's smooth, milky thighs, and in the blink of an eye Yakko had thrown Dot over his shoulder and dashed over to get a better view, tongue hanging from his mouth as he howled, "Hellooooo nurse!"

"Boys!" Dot muttered, dusting herself off where Yakko had dropped her. "Go fig."

"Are you sure? Alright, text message me the address. Thanks." The Animaniac finished her call and tucked away her phone, moving to the center of the van to catch everyone's attention. "That was Joel, and he's got some news that might be of interest."

"Who's Joel?" Wakko asked.

"Who are any of you, for that matter?" Dot added, arms crossed.

"Don't ask." Yakko whispered warningly. "Trust me, you do _not_ want them to explain. I'll fill you in later."

"Joel is our technologically inclined Animaniacs fan," supplied the Trivia Wiz, pushing her spectacles up on the bridge of her nose, "the Techno Geek."

"He didn't come along because he feels someone needs to run our site 24/7." Said the Fanfic Author, exiting the freeway, still paranoid, checking her rear view mirror for followers. "He's… a bit strange."

"Pot, meet kettle." Muttered Yakko.

"At any rate, Joel's been working on trying to track the number of our mystery tipster." Said the Animaniac.

"I thought you said we couldn't track the number because it was a mobile line."

"True. But Joel _was_ able to find out what company was its service provider." She paused for emphasis, as if the answer would explain everything. "T-Mobile."

Collective groans sounded in the van, followed by small outbursts such as "T-Mobile sucks!" and "A giant pink T, could it _be_ any more of a closeted logo?"

"Wait, wait, wait! Hold the phone!" Yakko waved his arms in a shushing gesture, talking over the griping fans. "I don't know what it is you have against T-Mobile, or even what T-Mobile is. However, I don't care to know. What does make me curious is the relevance of any of this."

"Well, you see, for all his nerdiness, Joel is an amazing guy." The Animaniac sat down in front of the Warners, who shrunk back from her eye-lined black gaze. "He managed to hack into T-Mobile's customer records and found out the mobile line's billing address. Hence, whoever provided our mystery tipster with this phone must live there."

Yakko nodded, still puzzled by the fans' reaction to this _T-Mobile_, but understanding the use of this new information. "Then that's were we need to go." He said finally. "Drop us off there. I have a few choice questions for our mystery benefactor."

xXx

Years of experience and hardship well beyond her years; of back breaking, soul crushing, mind numbing, heart shattering, dream killing work had taught Lita Kross one ultimate and invaluable truth about the universe and human existence as we know it…

Life sucked.

Life sucked ducks.

In fact, life sucked so many ducks that Lita was fairly convinced that life had a real problem and should seek help for its duck-sucking addiction. However, duck sucker's rehabilitation centers were, outside of Lita's own atrophied imagination, nonexistent. This, of course, only served as another reminder of how many ducks life indeed sucked.

She also realized she was getting carried away with a bizarre and, when she thought about it, rather disgusting metaphor. Or was it an analogy? Oh, she didn't even care anymore! She just knew it wasn't a simile!

No, no wait, she remembered now. In this case it was a metaphor, albeit a weak and stupid one.

So that's what she got for all her hard work. Unemployment, cruddy metaphors, and just enough spare change and lint in her pocket to afford bus fare. Yes, she was certain of it now. If she had been unsure before, just realizing she had stepped on gum on the greasy bus floor confirmed it. Life _did_ suck ducks. She didn't care how bad a metaphor it was, it was true!

Reaching her stop, Lita tripped and nearly fell off the bus, which sped away the moment her feet touched the cement.

It was only then she realized she had left her backpack onboard.

If this kept up, Lita calculated, ducks would be extinct from sucking-related deaths in a matter of months.

Dragging her feet, more out of an effort to dislodge the huge wad of gum on the bottom of her shoe than from depression, though it might've been partially from depression, Lita made her way to the CSUN dormitories. She wanted to console herself with the fact that things couldn't get any worse, but Lita knew better. The moment you started telling yourself that, the world set out to prove you wrong.

She headed down the well-lit hallway, hearing the upbeat music and celebratory laughter behind the dorm doors. Reverse schadenfreude; the happier other people were, the worse she felt.

Finally reaching the right door, Lita knocked briskly. Immediately, a wide-smiling, bright-eyed, tall young blonde ripped open the door to greet her.

"Lita!" She cried excitedly, ushering Lita inside and shutting the door behind them.

"Hey, Justine." Said Lita meekly, crossing over to the bed and flopping down face-first onto the mattress with a thump.

"I just got your voicemail. I'm so sorry about your job…" Justine said, walking over to sit beside Lita on the edge of the bed. Despite her sympathetic words, the girl couldn't hide the natural perkiness in her voice. It was like being consoled by a pep squad. "What are you going to do?"

"What else?" Came Lita's muffled reply, face still pressed against the pillow. With a sigh, she propped herself up on her elbows and turned onto her back to face her bright-faced friend. "I can't afford tuition anymore, so I'm going to have to put school on hold…_again_."

"But you were doing so well!" Justine cried, her pretty little face crumpling into a pretty little frown. "It's not fair. I can't believe Plotz would just fire you like that! No one on that lot works as hard as you do!"

"Did." Lita corrected before she could stop herself.

"Huh?"

"No one on that lot works as hard as I _did_. I don't work there anymore." Running a tired hand through her frazzled hair, Lita sighed and sat up, letting her short legs dangle over the edge of the bed. "I should've known that job wouldn't work out. It was obvious from the day he hired me that everyone there is a complete nut job."

"What do you mean?" Justine twirled a lock of her perfect, straight, gossamer hair with a long, graceful finger. Lita couldn't help but glare. Why was it that some people just seemed to have all the luck?

She looked away quickly, berating herself for casting envious eyes upon her best friend. She and Justine might've been as different as day and night, but that was no reason to resent the girl. Justine had been nothing but a kind and supportive, through and through. Of course, this only made Lita resent her all the more.

Clenching her fists on her lap, Lita glared down at a patch of carpet beneath her, focusing all her frustration on it as if doing so would solve everything. Stupid, ugly, cheap carpet. And yet she pitied herself for having to leave it, leave this room.

"So…" Justine said awkwardly, her friend's intense stare unnerving her. "I guess it's not a complete loss. Like you said, they were all nut jobs, right? That's to be expected, considering they work with movies and cartoons and all."

"Ugh, I HATE cartoons!" Lita barked suddenly, whirling around to face Justine, who jumped in fright with a little "eep". "All they ever do is glorify stupidity and dumb luck. Have you ever seen a toon that's had to work to get where they are? And what do they choose to do with their lives? Help the community? Start a business? Educate the populace? No! They choose to torture and torment unsuspecting bystanders who happen to be less fortunate than them, often times without any provocation!"

Justine blinked, watching the way Lita's hair seemed to stand on end as she breathed raggedly from her furious outburst. With a nervous giggle, Justine flipped her hair, trying to calm her worked-up friend and—now former—roommate. "C'mon, it's not all that bad. I know you're upset, but it's not like cartoons lost you your job."

The irony of her statement was too much; Lita couldn't help but give a dry laugh as she turned her focus back on that unfortunate patch of carpet. But it wasn't like she could tell Justine that a toon actually _had_ lost Lita her job. The last thing she wanted was a terrified friend having her committed.

Though, the more Lita thought about it, the more insane it seemed. A cartoon? A real life living toon had assaulted her boss and gotten her fired? It wasn't in any way possible, and the more Lita thought about it, the more she began to believe that maybe she really should have herself committed.

Then again, strange things always were happening at that lot. In the time she had worked there, she had witnessed some of the strangest things. Nothing of this caliber, of course, but still…

"Hey Justine, you know how I said I knew this job wouldn't work out from the day Plotz hired me?"

"Yeah, you just said it a couple minutes ago. Even I'm not that forgetful." Justine replied, slightly offended, slightly joking.

"Yeah, well, you know what I meant by that?"

Seeing Justine shake her head no, Lita nodded and stood to explain.

"Well, it was about three years ago. I remember because I had just turned sixteen. I had just been assigned my uniform, a terrible, skimpy looking thing that I normally wouldn't be caught dead in. You know, the type of thing you'd wear."

"Cute!"

"Anyway, I was so nervous that Plotz was going to change his mind. I hadn't technically signed an employment contract with him yet, and as I was called into his office…"

_I nervously opened the door, hearing it creak in that painfully slow way that doors creak in horror movies. You know, right before the good-looking teenager who can't act her way out of a wet paper bag gets KILLED? Yeah, like that._

_Anyway, I tip-toed inside, pulling at my too-short skirt, trying to keep it down, and stood before the CEO's desk. He turned in his chair to face me, looking as old, short, and grumpy as ever, and looked me up and down before nodding and saying,_

_"Ah, there you are. It's about time." He stood up and began to pace in front of his desk as he spoke, "I know your type. Idealistic, self-righteous, always fighting the good fight no matter how ridiculous it really is. Normally I'd have you booted right off my lot."_

_He stopped pacing and stared me down. I fought to suppress swallowing the lump in my throat. I needed that job so badly!_

_"But Gina recommended you, and that girl's been an invaluable asset to me. Maybe even the finest lawyer I've ever had. So I trust her word."_

_At that moment, I couldn't decide whether I was grateful to Gina or if I wanted her strung up by her perfectly manicured thumbs. On the one hand, it was thanks to her I was getting this job. On the other, who knew what she'd said about me to get me hired._

_"Let me make it clear, here and now, that any type of zaniness or silliness will not be tolerated!" He turned from me and went to retrieve something from his desk drawer. _

_With his back to me, I took the opportunity to take a deep, steadying breath. I didn't want him to think I was weak. _

"_That said," he said as he turned back, a stack of staples papers in hand, "I think it's best if we discuss the terms of your contract."_

"_Yes, sir!" I said, as confidently as I could. Maybe even too confidently, because he fixed me with a strange look before opening his mouth and…_

_Ah geez, I can't even say it! It was bizarre! I'm telling you, never in my wildest dreams would I have expected him to explain my contract to me the way he did._

_Alright, alright, I'll tell you. But this stays between us. And don't say I didn't warn you, Justine._

_He opened his mouth and began… to _sing

"Ask any of the employees in my lot  
They'll tell you I'm the guy who's at the top  
I work 'em hard and hey, hard works for them  
Because the system works  
The system called

Capitalism..."

_I didn't know what I was seeing. I mean, I _knew_ what I was seeing, but I couldn't seem to register it. I just stood there, staring, with my mouth hanging open like a fish on a hook. Not that I've ever really seen a fish on a hook, but I assume it'd look pretty ridiculous. And ridiculous just about sums up the way I must've looked at that moment._

_So he walks over to me, almost skips over to me with the way he swayed along to some imaginary beat, and put his arm around my shoulders all friendly like as he sang;_

"Got a little motto  
Always sees me through  
When you work for Plotzy  
Plotzy works for you"

_He led me to his window, showing me his vast view of the lot. Outside the gates, on the sidewalk, there was a homeless man, holding a sign, asking for food. Of course, being my young sixteen year old self, I couldn't help the look of sympathy and pity that must've crossed my face. But Plotz cut me off, putting his arm around my shoulders again as he pulled me away and led me to private records room in the back of his office, all the while singing;_

"Just study economics  
Then you'll surely know  
To feed the starving masses  
You gotta make some dough"

_At first I thought he meant make dough, as in literally bake some bread for hungry people or something. But it dawned on me that he actually was referring to money. Now, economics wasn't my best class or anything, but I kinda understood what the guy was saying. The more money you make, the better the economy, the more money there is to go around. So I suppose, in the most technical sense, he wasn't lying._

_As we perused the dark and dusty aisles of the records room, he skipped on ahead of me. I stopped to read some of the titles of the records books. They were old, and I mean really old. All the new stuff must've stored in computers._

"They say that life is tit for tat  
And that's how I see things"

_There was one file in particular which caught my attention, labeled as "L.A.B. phenomenon". But before I could get a closer look, Plotz was back, throwing his arm around my shoulders and leading me off, singing;_

"So, I deserve a lot of tat  
For taking you under my wings"

_We exited the records room, back into his office, and he locked the door behind him. I remember the ring of keys he was carrying because there was one key which stood out. Why? Because it was huge! And I mean huge. I couldn't imagine what kind of lock would require such a monstrosity._

_Anyway, a mousy looking man scurried in then, interrupting us. He showed Plotz some papers, and Plotz just skimmed through them before signing them and shooing the mousy man out. Plotz turned back to me, pen still in hand, and pulled out a wad of cash as he resumed singing;_

"Don't you know my pen hand  
Counts my money too?  
When you work for Plotzy  
Plotzy works for you!"

_And if things had been weird before, this is where they really got Twilight Zone'd out. He took me out of his office, to the waiting room. He gestured to the empty secretarial desk with an outstretched hand as he sang;_

"Whether you're thinking glamour

Or charity galore  
Ya gotta learn the business  
And that's what I'm here for"

_He gestured to himself as he explained,_

"Sure, I've got the know-how  
But my rep. is grotesque"

_He held up a newspaper, reading "Thaddeus Plotz to cut employee salaries again this year." Then, throwing the paper away, he took my face in his hands and said,_

"Hey kid, you've got a sweet face  
Come sit at my front desk"

_He dragged me over to the secretarial front desk and pushed me into the seat. He circled me, his hands behind his back, as he told me knowingly,_

"I know your good intentions  
But you're still a naïve tot"

_He pet my head and then jumped up on the desk, whirling around to point at me in the face, saying;  
_

"You've gotta cheat up to the top  
Before you call the shots"

_Then, calmly coming down from the desk, he went to the far wall, pulling down a chart showing a most peculiar picture of himself standing on top of a pyramid made up of his straining employees._

"So work and learn the business  
My sucker swindling regime  
Your peons make you riches  
That's called a pyramid scheme"

_Finally, letting the chart roll back up, he withdrew my contract from his pocket and slapped it on the desk in front of me, handing me a pen as he finished;_

"So what's the one conclusion  
I can bring your contract to?  
When you work for Plotzy…"

_Swallowing down my trepidation, and confusion, I took the pen offered me and signed my name on the dotted line. Plotz gave me an appreciative nod as he snatched back the contract and belted;_

"Plotzy works for you!"

_He held the final note, and suddenly my chair was spinning. The whole world became a blur before my eyes. I was mildly aware that I had stood up, though everything continued to spin before my eyes. I sauntered around dizzily and leaned against a wall for support. By the time I regained my senses, I found I was outside the office waiting room, in the hallway. I looked back at Plotz, who with a smug and self-satisfied smirk proclaimed;_

"_Ah, yes! See you Monday!"_

_And I found the large, double doors marked "Thaddeus Plotz. CEO" slammed in my face._

Justine stared, unblinkingly, as Lita's story came to its conclusion. She had heard strange things in college, many of them coming from Lita, but she had never before doubted her friend's sanity. At least not seriously.

With a nervous and patronizing smile, she said, "Oh… well isn't that something?" She cleared her throat, any excuse to break eye contact with Lita's smoldering gaze, and said, "So what are you going to do now?"

"Go back to Lars' I guess. I already called, and he said it was fine for me to move in again."

Justine nodded, helping Lita gather her things. "Yeah, Lars is a great guy. You're lucky to have him." She said dreamily.

"Yeah, that I am." Lita sighed, pulling her suitcase out of the closet to begin packing her things. "It's too bad he's stuck with me."

"What are you talking about? You bring excitement into his life!" Justine said cheerily.

"Trust me, Justine," Lita said as she began emptying her clothes drawers, "he doesn't need my help for that. Excitement just seems to find_ him_."

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

**If you liked it, please review.**

**If you didn't, please flame! It's snowing out here and I could use the fire... **


	7. ChicWakko: Cutie

Sorry for the wait! And thank you to all my wonderful reviewers. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing this song.

And just 'cause I love ya guys so much, I actually went and **SANG and RECORDED** this song so you could all hear it. You can find it on youtube. Just search for Cutie (Roxie) and it should be the video with Dot's face, posted on the account LuliandFishy.

Hope you like it!

* * *

**ChicWakko: Cutie**

The internet was beginning to bore him. This was quite a feat, considering the internet is basically made up of jokes, violence, sex, and angry or angsty blogs filled with misinformation. But somehow Lars Kross had managed it. He had surfed enough webpages that he was actually _bored_ of jokes, violence, sex, and angry or angsty blogs filled with misinformation.

"Priest and a Rabbi in a bar video, no. Motorcycle accident pictures, no. Busty co-eds wet t-shirt contest, no. Someone complaining about the president's administration even though they don't even know who the vice president is, no. Someone complaining about humanity's plight and the dark pits in our souls, even though they spelled the wrong kind of sole, no." Lars sighed as he x'd out every page, even his clicking finger moving lethargically.

He slumped against his computer screen, lightly tapping his forehead against the glass in frustration. "Woe is me, that my life should be thusly bereft of excitement." He leaned back in his swivel chair, spinning around a couple times, but even that couldn't lift the atmosphere of complete and utter boredom. "And so close to my twenty-eight birthday, no less!" He exclaimed in a completely unnecessary bit of expositional monologue, written in simply as a lazy means of expressing details about the character. "I am only wearing a t-shirt and boxers!" he continued on, describing himself unnaturally to no one in particular. "But at the very least _she_ should be arriving soon." He said to himself, purposely leaving out the subject's name to generate_suspense_.

Oh, that silly Lars.

Anyway!

It was about the time that Lars realized he had been delivering an absurd expositional monologue to no one in particular, that he also became aware of a strange sound coming from his closet. A hushed, rustling sound, like someone trying very hard not to make any noise at all but failing. Now, any normal person's reaction might've been to simply get up and check the closet. A more paranoid person might have left the house and called the police. But Lars was, as stated earlier, only in boxers, so he couldn't exactly run outside, and his pants were all inconveniently hung in the closet. So that only left the normal person's option, check the closet.

But unlike a normal person, Lars had just gone through several hours of intense boredom. So now, this slight oddity had sparked an unusual excitement in him, and his pent-up energy began filling him as he cautiously shuffled over to his bookcase—which strangely contained not a single book—and picked up the pair of wooden rubber band guns he had lying on a shelf.

"Alright, I know you're in there!" Lars exclaimed, the rustling noises in the closet ceasing immediately as he addressed them. "Come out with your hands up!" he said, aiming his rubberband guns, dramatically prepared for the imaginary recoil from firing a shot. Poor Lars, he'd been playing way too much Half Life

A quiet, barely audible hissing sound was heard, and Lars soon recognized it to be hushed whispers coming from his closet. Ah, so the foolish intruders were having second thoughts. Lars stood triumphantly, this was a good thing. Maybe the intruders would surrender, he wouldn't even have to fire a single shot, and no one would get hurt. True, rubberbands couldn't deal any fatal wounds. But they _did_ really, really sting. And Lars didn't want that on his conscious.

Cautiously pressing his back against the wall, Lars quickly reached over to the sliding closet door beside him and slid the door open, immediately jumping in front of the opening and aiming his rubberband guns. "Gotcha!"

Nothing. He was met with nothing but the usual sight of a mess of clothes and computer parts strewn about the floor. Lars blinked curiously; perhaps he had just imagined the whole thing. It wouldn't be the first time. Putting one of the guns to his temple to scratch his head as he surveyed the closet, Lars found nothing out of the ordinary. Oh, save a large, brightly colored present with a card-sized tag attached to it. But other than that, nothing unusual at all.

Now, Lars knew that old saying 'curiosity killed the cat', but being a rather bright fellow he also knew he was luckily not a cat, nor a dog, or even a goldfish. He was, in fact, a human being, and if every video game he had ever played had taught him one thing, it was that curiosity was a very good thing to have if you were human. Or elven. Or a space creature. Or anthropomorphic animal. Or an anthropomorphic elven animal from space. So without further thought into the matter, Lars put the rubberband guns back on the shelf, picked up the brightly wrapped mystery box, shook it slightly, and then proceeded to bring it over to his bed for unwrapping.

He inspected it thoroughly, by which I mean he just stared at it really, really hard, of course. He mused to himself where he could have possibly gotten such a thing. He was too old to believe in Santa and he didn't think Buddha was in the habit of leaving gifts for people considering, you know, the whole 'material possessions are the source of all evil' belief. But he couldn't really think of any other jolly fat men that might've possibly broken into his house and deposited a gift in his closet. Heck, he wasn't even sure why he had immediately assumed it must be a gift from a jolly old fat man.

After much deliberation, Lars deduced that perhaps he should check the attached card. That could _possibly_ be a clue.

Carefully, and with care, Lars took the card into his hands and, full of care, opened it. On the plain bleached-white cardboard, in rushed but perfectly legible print, was written;

_To our mystery tipster. Thanks, you're such a doll!_

_--Your Friends At yakkingyakko(dot)proboards98(dot)com_

Lars thought quickly to his vast voyages through the internet. Many a URL came to mind, but not this one. No, Lars was almost completely certain he had never seen this website in his life. Of course, he figured he might've visited it late one night and simply forgotten, but if so, what could he have possibly done to merit someone breaking into his house to leave him a gift?

The name did strike him as familiar, _yakkingyakko_, though he couldn't fathom where he had heard it before.

Shrugging, and giving only the minimal amount of mandatory thought to the possibility that it could be a terrorist box filled with icky anthrax, Lars dove right in and unwrapped the brightly colored parcel. And by unwrapped, of course I mean he tore the wrapping and the box to shreds.

Inside the torn remains of what was once a brightly wrapped box, sat a simple coffee mug. Nothing more, nothing less, just a plain white coffee mug. Curiously, Lars took the mug in his hands and examined it. No symbol or logo to be found anywhere.

With a shrug, Lars walked over to his water cooler to serve himself some water in his strange new little mug. But the moment he reached out to press the button on his water cooler, he felt a hand on his wrist stop him. With a startled jump, Lars looked down at his wrist, only to see a gloved hand emerging from the mug. Before he could get out so much as a gasp of shock, out of the mug popped three familiar faces.

"Hello!" sang the tallest figure in a sweet baritone.

"Hello!" harmonized the single female figure in an adorable tenor.

"Hello!" chimed in the red-capped figure in an enthusiastic alto.

In an instant, the three figures had leapt out of the mug and onto the ground, standing before a quite befuddled Lars.

"Who… who are…?" was all Lars could stutter out before the three figures replied.

"We're the Warner brothers!" said the Warner brothers.

"And the Warner sister!" added the Warner sister, jumping into Lars' unsuspecting arms. "And you're not half-bad looking. How's about a kiss, handsome?"

The pretty little Warner sister planted a wet, sloppy kiss on Lars' cheek, which prompted a memory in the confused man's head. He faintly remembered seeing these characters plant such kisses on other people before, on TV, on that one cartoon… what was it called?

"Ahh!" Lars let out a yelp as he dropped the Warner sister, and his new mug, on the floor. "You're the Animaniacs!"

"No, that's the name of our show." Yakko said, nudging Lars' in the ribs. "We're the Warner—"

"Yes, I know!" Lars interrupted quickly. "She's Dot." He said, gesturing to the little Warner girl on the floor. Suddenly he remembered why the word _yakkingyakko_ had seemed so familiar to him. "And you two are Yakko and Wakko… um, I forget which is which."

Dot giggled, giving her brothers a smirk. "I guess I'm just unforgettable that way."

"Yeah, it must have been impossible for our viewers to get your singing out of their nightmares." Yakko replied smugly.

Dot turned away, arms crossed, with a huff. "Like you're one to talk Mr. United States, Canada, Mexico, Panama," she muttered under her breath.

"Okay, I think there must be too much lead in my water or something." Lars said, trying to shake his head clear as he headed back to his computer chair and plopped down into the seat. "I didn't know lead could cause hallucinations, but hey, now they're saying absinth _doesn't_ cause them. So who knows? Maybe lead does."

"Don't worry, mister." Wakko said, hopping atop the water cooler. "I'll un-lead it for you!" Wakko smiled as he leaned over at placed his mouth under the water cooler's faucet, then proceeded to drink the entire contents of the water cooler, his body inflating like a balloon as he did so.

Lars' eyes widened like non-flying saucers at the sight. Just as he began pondering whether he would need to buy a new water cooler or some anti-psychotic medication, Wakko finished draining the water cooler and stood up straight. Yakko went to his brother's side, picking him up and shaking him, before plugging Wakko's mouth back into the faucet and squeezing the water out of him, back into the cooler.

The job completed, Wakko hopped off the water cooler and coughed up a pair of solid lead blocks, before giving a loud belch. "Wow, there really was a lot of lead in your water."

"Um… thanks?" Lars said, walking over to inspect the blocks of lead. Surely this was all just a dream. He must've gotten so bored; he fell asleep at the keyboard. Heh, bored, boared, I rhymed.

"It's the least we can do for the kind person who…" Yakko's smile fell as he gave Lars an accusing look, "…left us to deal with the craziest fans this side of Los Angeles. No exaggeration, woof."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, imaginary dream manifestation of Yakko and/or Wakko." Lars said casually.

Yakko exchanged a look with his sibs, who responded with a shrug. "Whoa, dumber than advertised." Yakko cleared his throat and tried again. "Yeah, well, we just wanted to thank you for calling those fans to help us. We might've not made it all together if it hadn't been for you. But one question, how did you know where I was and that my sibs needed help?"

Lars blinked one, then twice, then a third time, before realizing that the cartoon boy's statement wasn't going to start making anymore sense anytime soon. "Yeah, I don't have any idea what you could possibly be referring to, but glad to help! Now if you'll excuse me, don't get me wrong this is a nice dream and all, but I really should be waking up..."

"Dream?" echoed all three Warners at once.

"What do you mean dream?" Wakko asked.

"Do you mean I'm dreamy?" Dot supplied stretching out on Lars' bed like a model.

"Yeah. I mean, no!"

"So you don't think I'm dreamy?!" Dot cried, sitting up, her bottom lip trembling pitifully.

"No, you're the prettiest… uh… what were you kids again? Dogs or cats? I forget…"

"Neither." Wakko said, jumping up into Lars' arms and licking his face as a puppy or kitten would. "We just like doing that."

"Uh huh…" Lars said, slightly disgusted, as he gently placed Wakko on the bed besides his sister. "Look guys, I really should be waking up…"

"Why won't you believe we're real, mister man with no pants?" Dot said, leaning towards Lars and batting her eyes adorably.

It was only then that Lars remembered that, indeed, he was pantless. Grabbing his black bed sheets and pulling them out from under Wakko and Dot, Lars tied the sheets around his waist in a late arriving show of modesty.

"It's okay, mister. I don't wear pants either!" Wakko said with a blissful grin, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

"But you're imaginary, it's not the same." Lars said, struggling in vain to keep himself from blushing.

"Why won't you just believe us when we say we're real?" Yakko said, walking over to the bed to join his sibs and leaning against the mattress.

"Because," Lars said, tightening the shoddily tied sheets around his waist, "I'm a skeptic."

"Eesh. You should get that looked at by a doctor." Yakko said,

"What? No! I'm a skeptic, a skeptic!" Lars plopped back down in his chair. "That means I don't believe something unless I see it with my own eyes."

"Then who's eyes are you seeing us with now?" Wakko asked, scratching his head in confusion.

"You can borrow mine if it would help." Dot said, peeling her eyes off her face and holding them out in her palm.

Lars eyed the, well, eyes, and shook his head. "Thanks, really, but I'm fine the way I am." Dot shrugged and slapped her eyes back on.

"Look, we're not here to bug you, really we're not," Yakko began, inching towards Lars, "things just sort of worked out that way. What we really wanted to do was simply thank you and ask how you knew to call for help."

"But I didn't know!" Lars protested, quickly but not roughly pushing Yakko back, who had come too close for comfort. "I did watch your show as a kid, I admit, but that was a long time ago. And I wasn't even that into the show, the one who was really obsessed with you three was—"

"La-ars!" called a feminine vice from downstairs, the sound of a door shutting accompanying her call. "I'm here!"

"Oh no… I can't believe it slipped my mind! _She's_ coming home today!"

"She? Who's she?" Yakko asked suspiciously. "Say, are you purposely leaving out the subject's name to generate suspense?"

"Shush! Imaginary or not, you do _not_ want her to see you three!" Lars said, scooping all three Warners up in his arms and throwing them back in the closet. "Now stay quiet or I'm going to be in some deep shi—"

"Goodnight everybody!" interjected Yakko, blowing Lars a kiss.

"Shh!" Lars slammed the sliding door shut in a panic. How could he have let himself get so distracted?

"Lars?" said the feminine voice, knocking on his bedroom door. "Are you decent?"

"As decent as he's going to get." Muttered Yakko.

"Shh!" said Lars, punching the closet door for emphasis.

"Lars?" said the feminine voice as she turned the knob and entered. "Are you okay?"

"Never better…" Lars said with a forced smile, "…Lita."

Lita Kross raised an eyebrow at the sight. Pantless, his sheets in a curious location, the room a mess, an unwrapped package sitting on an unmade bed, yes… Lars hadn't changed a bit. That's right; the_she_ Lars kept mentioning was Lita! What an amazing plot twist! Bet none of you out there saw that coming!

…oh, you did? Well, who asked ya?

"What's with the sheet? Are you expecting company?" Lita said, dropping her suitcase and purse in the doorway tiredly.

"No one but you." Lars said, not daring to move away from the closet. "Then again, you never know who might drop in uninvited."

"Tell me about it." Lita said, moving over to sit down on the bed. "It's just that sort of unwanted visitor that cost me my job today."

With a sigh, Lita shut her eyes and leaned back onto the bed, taking a black pillow into her arms and hugging it to her chest. It was a very pleasant pillow to hold; soft, fuzzy, a bit thin but warm, its heartbeat steady and relaxing…

Lita's eyes snapped open in alarm as she sat up and stared down at the supposed pillow in her arms.

"Hellooo nurse!" said Wakko Warner, cuddling into Lita's chest.

Lita gave a shrill scream and jumped off the bed. "Lars! What is that?!" she shouted, gesturing spastically at Wakko, who made a gookie face in reply.

"What's what? I don't see anything if you don't." Lars responded, too quickly.

"What, did you little hellions follow me here?! I'm calling the police!" Lita said, running over to her purse to retrieve her cell phone. But she never had the chance, for as she opened the bag, Dot popped out and grabbed her face.

"Oh sweetie, you really shouldn't scowl like that. You'll give yourself premature wrinkles!" Dot said sweetly.

"Gah!" Lita reeled back as she stood, and whirled on Lars. "Do something!"

"Nah, I'm good just feigning ignorance over here." Lars said with a nod, still guarding the closet door. Lita narrowed her eyes, knowing him all too well.

"What are you hiding in there?"

"Nothing!" Lars said, shaking his head a few too many times.

"Uh huh, then you won't mind if I do _this_!" Lita lunged forward and shoved Lars aside, yanking the closet door open.

There stood Yakko, playing with a pair of paddleballs.

"You?!" One could practically see the fire in Lita's eyes.

"You?!" One really could see fire come out of Yakko's eyes.

"What are you doing here?!" They both shouted at once, hands balled up into fists.

"What am I doing here? This is my brother's house!" Lita said furiously, pointing to Lars who sat sheepishly on the bed beside Wakko, who was busying himself bouncing on the bed. "I live here! What are you doing here?!"

Yakko opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get out the train of unkind though clever phrases he had prepared for Lita, Dot jumped in front of him, smiling adorably.

"Well if you really want to know, this place is but a short stop on our path to our ultimate goal."

Lita opened her mouth to unleash the dam of equally unkind, though not as clever, words she had prepared for Yakko, but her curiosity got the best of her. "What ultimate goal?"

"To reclaim our rightful place at the top, of course!" Dot said, batting her eyes, as she took Lita's hand and led her away from the closet. Now certain that all eyes were on her, Dot shoved Wakko and Lars off the bed, Lars landing in an uncomfortable heap on the floor while Wakko landed on Lars' back, and posed to explain with a song.

"_The word on everybody's lips  
Is gonna be cutie  
The lady raking in the chips  
Is gonna be a cutie"_

Dot spun around adorably, pulling out a mirror and admiring herself.

_"I'm a comeback celebrity  
That means  
Someone you almost forgot  
They're gonna remember my eyes  
My ears, my smile, my dress, I'm Dot!"  
_

She threw the mirror aside and jumped from the bed onto Lars' computer desk, leaning against his monitor as she sang.  
_  
"From just some washed up has-been toon  
I'm gonna be a cutie  
Who says cuteness is not an art?"_

Raising one hand lazily in the air, Dot stood up straight and pointed at her two brothers.

_"And who with brothers that yak and whack  
Can say she's making a comeback?  
Dot Warner!"_

Finishing her sung monologue, Dot lay down on the desk and winked, beckoning for her brothers.  
_  
"Boys..."_

A lifetime together had made the Warners very good at reading eachother's cues. So, taking the hint, Yakko and Wakko moved to opposite sides of the desk and raised their hands up at Dot, singing;  
_  
"They're gonna wait outside in line  
To get to see"_

Dot stood up and curtsied as she sang along with her brothers;  
_  
"A cutie"_

Then, pulling out a pen and paper, she scribbled a quick little signature and stuffed it into Lars' bewildered hands.  
_  
"Think of those autographs I'll sign,  
'Good luck to ya',"_

Dot winked at Lars in her innocently flirtatious way as Yakko and Wakko chimed in;  
_  
"Dottie"_

Dot huffed, casting her brothers a quick glare for their slip-up, before turning back to her audience.  
_  
"And I'll appear  
Bright and clear  
And say 'you can call me cutie pie'"_

Dot put out her arms, and her brothers reached up to take hold of her, gracefully bringing her off the desk and to the ground as they sang;  
_  
"Princess Angelina,  
Contessa Louisa Francesca,  
Banana Fana Bo Besca"_

Dot's saccharine smile morphed to a threatening snarl as she stared her two brothers down, saying;  
_  
"But call me Dottie and you die!"_

Seeing Yakko and Wakko's terrified smiles, Dot turned away satisfied, and climbed up on Lars' swivel chair, fluffing her hair as she spoke in rhythm.

"Mmmm, I'm a star!  
And the audience loves me!  
And I love them  
And they love me for loving them  
And I love them for loving me  
Oh, and I guess they'll like my brothers too  
That is, if they can get their eyes off me long enough to notice them  
And that's showbiz,  
Kid" she said with a wink as she cartwheeled off the chair and back onto the floor.

Yakko and Wakko ran up in front of Dot and snapped their fingers in time, now both wearing wide-rimmed hats as they sang;

_"She's given up her hum drum life"  
_

Dot emerged from behind her brothers, now dressed in a sparkling red evening gown.  
_  
"I'm gonna be _

Sing it_!"_

Yakko and Wakko slid to their knees on either side of Dot, singing;  
_  
"A cutie  
She made a scandal and a stir"_

As the Warner Brothers bent down on all fours, Dot walked over them like steps, back up to the bed, as she finished loudly;  
_  
"And Hollywood  
Is gonna flip  
When they see who defines what's hip  
Dot Warner"_

Yakko and Wakko got up on their knees, looking up adorably at Dot, hands in the air is if reaching out for her, as they chanted, mesmerized;

_"Cutie...  
Cutie...  
Cutie...  
Cutie...  
Cu-tie...  
Cutie...  
Cutie..."_

Lita nodded contemplatively, absorbing this new information and viewing it with all the sympathy she could muster.

"I want them out, now."

* * *

**Dot:** I bet this song is going to be the most popular one yet!

**Yakko: **Probably so. After all, there's no accounting for taste.

**Dot: **Hmph!

**Wakko:** (giggles) I get it, 'cause people who would like your song have bad taste!

**Dot:** Boys...


End file.
